W.A.I.S.T.
WAIST was this past weekend. It stands for "West African Invitational Softball Tournament." Most Peace Corps from West Africa join in, of those who want to go, along with a few other groups not related to Peace Corps. The Gambia Peace Corps group brought along thirty-plus people. There were two leagues to play in: Competitive and Social. The Competitive groups ranged from Senegal; Dakar Academy; Embassy staff; and Korea/Japan to name a few; a total of eight teams. Gambia PCV belonged to the Social League, in which 16 teams played.
Thursday night we had a meeting at the Stage to go over last minute passport, medical info, costs, and other stuff. Even though over thirty people in our group (roughly a third of all Gambia Volunteers) chose to attend, only twenty would play softball. I signed up. That night John C. and Jeff Z. (the Co-Captains / Organizers) brought out the jerseys we had to paint. Considering we all had to meet at 5:30am some people chose to stay up all night, a few of those helped to paint the jerseys. The front had our team name, "Fishbowl," and the slogan on the sleeve of the shirt. It was an eye in which the iris is a fish instead of an iris. The reason for "Fishbowl", other then the name of the place a few volunteers stay at, is the term that we all feel on occasions that we live in a giant fishbowl for the amusement of Gambians. Everything we do is watched. Another term some people throw around is "Toubob TV".
We had our choice of names and numbers. It really didn't matter what name we used or even someone had the same number. I chose the number '42' from Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy. A lot of the science people got that reference and laughed. For the name I put more thought into it and told them to put me down for 'Timshel.' Throughout the week only three people got that reference - Joe G, Kate L, and Annamarie. The word 'Timshel' is Hebrew for "Thou mayest" which is the underlying theme for "East of Eden".
At five in the morning Annamarie, Ariane, and I caught a taxi to the Stage. Not everyone was up yet and those who stayed up were still working on the jerseys. Within a half-hour the vans pulled up and chaos as everyone scrambled to get ready and put everything into the vans. We drove to Banjul to wait for the first ferry, which would leave at seven. We were almost an hour early. As we were waiting for the ferry to arrive we noticed that the "official" baseball bat we wanted to bring was back at the Peace Corps office. A quick phone call later a message was given out to a volunteer at the office not going to WAIST:
"Put the bat in a taxi and tell him to go to the ferry terminal. Don't pay more than D200 for it."
Finally the ferry arrives, we were first on board. As the ferry was about to leave, John C., who stayed behind at the terminal waiting for the taxi/bat combination to show up ran up to the ferry bat in hand. The bat made a solo trip to Banjul and now was heading to Dakar. We cross the river. No bus, yet. We sit around and order bean-sandwiches for breakfast and a few of us exchange money on the black market. The bus pulls up, and we get in. Only forty-five minutes into the trip we're at the Senegal border. All passports are "exit" stamped and we cross "no-man's-land" to await the "entrance" stamp for Senegal. The whole process took about a half-hour for thirty-some passports.
The next eight hours we're driving through Senegal. At six in the afternoon we arrive at Dakar. Paying the driver a little extra, he drops us off at the "Club Atlantique" which was formerly known, and better known as, "The American Club." The club is located across the street from the Atlantic Ocean and is completely sealed in. We needed to show either Peace Corps ID or passports to get in, or the guards wouldn't let us in. Inside there's tennis courts, volleyball nets, a swimming pool, two bars, a dance floor, and enough tables for the hundreds of other people to show up. We met other volunteers from Senegal, Mauritania, Mali and Guinea, to name a few. It was the largest concentration of Americans that I've been with since leaving the U.S.
We were told that we would be in "home stay". My interpretation of that phrase was living with Senegalese people. Our home stay was quite different. Embassy staff and other Americans living in the area were nice enough to have us stay in their homes for a few days. Bear and I were told we were roommates and that our homestay was Mary, a very nice woman who works at the Embassy. After dinner at the club she drove us to her house. Her house was all the way across town, about a twenty minute car ride. Dakar is not like New York City big, but, as some people compared it, to as Baltimore sized. The American Club was on one end of the town, and our house was the other end. No problem. Mary introduced us to the guard, so we were allowed in without her, and gave us a key. As she was showing us her home we finally realized how out-of-touch we were by living in The Gambia for eight months. Things like microwaves, real refrigerators, ice cubes, digital TV, hot water (not to mention water pressure) just amazed us.
Some people went out that night to party but we were both exhausted and decided to watch TV for a little bit and go to bed. An interesting thing occurred: we had not watched a single television show in eight months, and here is digital TV with hundreds of channels - with nothing on! We watched Bloopers of Dog Shows for a half-hour. The dogs would run up to the jump and run head-first into it or run to go up a hill and fall back down. After that we watched two episodes of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"
The next morning I walked downstairs to the kitchen and noticed she had laid out plates, glasses, and silverware for us. She told us the night before where the bread and cereal were. I couldn't find the cereal but found some bread in the fridge. Bear came down a little later and we were just eating the bread and drinking the orange juice when Mary walks down:
"You're eating that bread?"
"Yes. It was the one I found in the refrigerator."
"Oh, I was going the throw that one out, it's getting stale."
Bear and I just look at each other thinking it was actually better bread then we get in The Gambia, and still eating the now stale bread she told us that everything was all set out in the dining room. Sure enough, as we walked around the corner there's cereal, milk, and newly cooked loaves of bread. Just like any American breakfast. I must have had three bowls of "Honey Nut Cheerios" while reading a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon book.
Our first game was set for 9:40 at Ebbetts Field, playing Korea/Japan #2 (K/J Social team, they had a competitive team as well, #1). Ebbets Field is located a block away from the American Club and is directly next to the ocean. If one hits a foul ball behind him far enough the ball would land in the water. The team slowly started to arrive and we all put on our jerseys, made a roster, and starting playing. The first game I just watched. It was quite entertaining as we had the stereo playing music, drinks and food were available (hot-dogs!), and Kelly P. hit a homerun for our team.
I brought one of the only two hats I brought into country, the old US Postal Service hat I found in the streets. There were a few joking comments that I was the only one qualified to wear that hat. I gave the hat to Sarah G. to wear when I wasn't playing and she was.
The odd thing about playing softball, or even being in Dakar, was the security. Every place we went, where we gathered, we had to show IDs. At the American Club two guards were at the entrance. For every baseball field we played at (there were four total) two guards were at the entrance. When teams were playing a guard was at every corner of the field and in between the corners, for a total of eight guards for the field plus two for the gate so a total of ten guards for every field. A bit over-doing it, but safe nonetheless. It reminded me of the movie "King Ralph" with John Goodman. He's trying to have a romantic dinner with a date in the palace and was about to say "Well, it's just the two of us," when he notices all the guards and instead says "Well, it's just the twelve of us."
First game: lost.
The second game was the same field at noon. We all just relaxed, practiced at the batting cage, or just watched the game being played until our turn was up. I was put on the roster. Struck out.
Second game: lost.
The third game was an hour later again in the same field. Bear and Sarah G. helped me improve my batting by giving me pointers at the batting cage. During the third game I went up to bat and Kate yelled from the side-line "Thou Mayest!" Thou Mayest gets a strike. Apparently the practice helped and I actually hit the ball the second time around and only struck out when running to first. The third game we also were playing a team who lost two games earlier and John made the comment: "Well, one of us is going to lose our losing streak!" It was them.
Third game: lost.
By then it was 3:30 and the next planned event wasn't until seven. Bear, Doug, and I went back to Doug's place for a while. Doug noticed the front-gate was locked and couldn't get in. The guard didn't recognize him and wouldn't open it for him. He explained who he was and why he had a key to the door, inside the gate, all in Wollof. The guard wouldn't let him in. We were about to give up and just go back to our place when Doug noticed a small button by the gate. "What's this?" he said as he pushed it. A buzzer rang in the house. We all laughed at the forgotten knowledge of doorbells. His host family opened up the balcony and told the guard it was ok to let us in. While walking in, still laughing at the doorbell incident, Doug told a story that the night before he put something in the microwave and his host had to say that you couldn't put that type of dish in the microwave. All these common-sense American styles of living (non-microwave able bowls, doorbells, bread) were quite non-existent for us for the first day or so. It was as if we were transplanted directly from an African village to New York City and wondering how the elevator works.
We stayed at Doug's for a while, talked to the host family. They don't work at the Embassy but work at the American School. While talking she asked if we wanted any pizza. Not refusing any type of American food luxury, we all eagerly agreed. We all went into the kitchen and she served us home-made pizza that was sitting in the refrigerator. I was about to just eat it as it was when she told me:
"You can heat it up in the microwave."
That thought never occurred to me until she said it. I put the plate in the microwave, closed it, and just stared at the random dials. It wasn't like the microwaves back home. I couldn't figure out how to work the microwave! The husband helped out and the wife jokingly made a comment that three guys with college degrees can't figure out what to do with a microwave. (To be fair, the husband did honestly point out it was a European-style microwave and was quite different instructions then American ones).
Having stayed an hour or so we decided to go back to our place to get ready for dinner. That being Saturday it was Valentine's Day Dinner. The dinner was going to be at the Marine House at seven PM. It was where all the Marines were staying that were stationed there. To be honest, most girls were going because of the Marines and most guys were going because that's where the girls were going to go.
We three arrived back at the other end of town and starting walking to the house. Going in the wrong direction we ended up being a little late getting back to the house. Got ready to go out and got a taxi. A few things to consider here:
All taxi drivers speak either French or Wollof. You'd be extremely lucky if you find one that speaks English.
The price is negotiable but usually starts anywhere from 1500CFA to 2000CFA for a trip across town. A quick way to exchange from CFA [Communauté Financière d'Afrique (franc of the African Financial Community) ] to dollars is to multiply by two and drop three zeros. 1000CFA = $2.
We were told the Marine House is on the same street as this Chinese restaurant that, in French, stands for "the Golden Nut".
We let Doug do the talking, in Wollof. He explained we want to go to a Chinese restaurant by the name of "the Golden Nut" (he gave the name in French). Whenever Doug didn't know a word or phrase in Wollof, Bear helped out in the French he knew. Linguistically, I was just along for the ride. The driver said he knew where it was and started driving. He stopped to ask someone where it was; that person told him where it was. The driver said now he knew where it was, and continued to stop once in a while to make sure the direction he was going was where the restaurant was. He didn't know. An hour into the cab ride we just crossed the bridge over the freeway into town and down a street filled with empty factories and warehouses. There was no possible way it could be in this part of town. We agreed to just pay the guy extra and take us to the American Club. Doug explained to him that we no longer wanted to go to the Golden Nut, irregardless of how close he thought he was to it, and to drive us all the way back to The American Club. We would pay him an additional 1000CFA. ($2).
He pulled over the car and got out. He went to the bidick on the side of the street, bought a cigarette, got back inside the cab and without moving yet started smoking it. A few breaths later he put the car in drive and drove us directly the American Club. The dinner was supposed to start at seven PM. It was now a quarter after eight when we arrived at The American Club. We showed our ID and got in. Luckily Sarah S. was there and knew where the Marine House was. She wasn't going to the party but would walk with us to it.
Twenty minutes later we arrived at the sign pointing to the Chinese Restaurant we just spent an hour trying to find, and a five minutes after that we were at the Marine House. The informational papers we were given at the start of the weekend had "ID CARD IS REQUIRED FOR ENTRY" in big, bold letters for the Marine House. They weren't kidding. Two guards checked ID, and two more checked as you walked though a metal detector. We walked in and ran into more people from our group. Being late for dinner, even though they were still serving it, we got information that it wasn't worth it. A small group of us decided to just leave and go out for dinner: Bear, Ariane, Annamarie, Doug, and I. Where to go that we knew was close? The Golden Nut! Dinner was a blast! It was like any other Chinese Restaurant in the US. (I haven't been to a Chinese Restaurant in China, so that comparison can't be made). The service was exceptional; we didn't have to wait an hour for just the bread to arrive as some places are in The Gambia, and the food was filling. The huge lazy-Susan in the middle of the table was the most fun. Going back to the party Bear and I just realized it was turning into a huge frat party and so we left to go home.
The next morning, Sunday, I got up to play softball while Bear decided to stay inside for the day. The first game was set for 9:40am. Here's where a problem comes into play: The Marine Party didn't end until 2 a.m., and most people went out afterwards. I ran into Sarah Grimm and Joo walking to the field and John C. was so glad to see us and yelled to Sarah "Sarah! You're up!" By the rules you need at least nine people to play in order not to forfeit the game. You have ten minutes after the playtime to get those nine people. Us three were five minutes late and were, respectively, the ninth, tenth, and eleventh people to show up to play at that early in the morning. The first time I played, I hit the ball and ran to first, but because of a penalty (the ball hitting me) was allowed to go to second. Igot out going to third. Played one more time at bat and got out again going to first. Played RF for a while before was put in DH when more people showed up.
Fourth game: lost.
It was around eleven and they had three more games that afternoon. Depending on how well we played that determined if we played on Monday. I sat around at the American Club for a while, reading, until I decided to skip the rest of the games and to try and find where we have to take the GRE next month.
I don't speak any French, other then the phrase "Do you speak French?" in French, which is no help; and I only know how to speak Wollof in the third-person. Nonetheless, off I went. A few blocks later I saw an American flag, and thinking it's the Embassy decided to try and get in and see if anybody knows where it is. I had my passport out, as we had grown accustomed to having it ready at all times, and was approaching the guards. The guards I did approach were not the guards to the Embassy, they were the guards who were the guards for the place across the street. It wasn't even the Embassy, it was the Ambassador's house. I could tell they were saying, in French, "How can I help?" or some phrase like that. Out comes the Wollof. I showed them my passport, with picture and point to my name, Michael. Then out comes "Michael wants to go to The West African Research Center." Two of them point in two different directions. I even had the address written on a piece of paper, in French, and no one knew where the streets were. Of the two I picked the direction of the most confident guard as he was yelling to the other guard.
I walked a few blocks and came across a gas station. I asked the guard there, he pointed in the direction I just came back from. Figuring I must have passed it, I went halfway back and went down a side street. Ran into another guard and asked him. He was excited and was trying to tell me something. I didn't understanding anything he was saying. I gave him my notebook and pen and he just drew two parallel lines with two more perpendicular to it and put two X's. One X for us, one for where I needed to go. I was only one block away. Walking that one block I passed the Golden Nut and thirty seconds later I was at the West African Research Center. We were half-a-block away from where we had to go the night before and didn't realize it. All this took about an hour to find. I wrote down all the contact information and drew a map and decided to just walk back to the house on the other end of town. It was now about one in the afternoon. The walk back was a little more than hour long. Walked along the main road going parallel to the Atlantic. I passed a monument of two orange pieces of stone sticking up of the ground which the Americans dubbed "the French Fry Monument." Another had a huge metal person playing a trumpet-like instrument at the entrance to a gate. That monument was constructed to celebrate the Year 2000 celebrations.
Back at the house they were just finishing lunch. Bear had stayed inside all day just relaxing. For the rest of the day I stayed inside, reading, and took a nap. At 7:30pm there was going to be a Bonfire Bash at Ebbett's Field. Around that time I left to go, leaving Bear at the house, and went to the field. There's a little trouble in being on time, which is that no one expects you to be on time. They hadn't set up anything yet and didn't even have the ticket-collection person at the gate yet. I just walked right in (after showing ID to the guard) and sat down at the bench.
While reading, waiting for people to show up from our group, I was slowly being moved down the bench by other people showing up and starting drinking. At the end of the bench, where I stayed the longest, the sound equipment guys told me they had to set up, so I switched to a plastic chair. Now they needed chairs to put the speakers up so I was then left by a chair next to the speaker, which was playing, but also was next to the light. Around eight or so the first of our group, Kate L. and Jenni, showed up. They said after I left the game we actually won the next two but lost the third one.
Total wins: 2; loses: 5.
We weren't playing on Monday.
The bonfire was fun. It had all you can drink (alcoholic and non-alcoholic), all you can eat (snacks), a DJ, and a bonfire itself. The bonfire was going to go until "You can't party no more!!" but I left at ten. The next morning we all met up again at the American Club to go to Goree Island. We agreed to meet at 10:30, but by that time only four of us were ready to go, compared to the eight or so that were interested the night before. Ariane, Annamarie, Bear, and I just left to go to the island ourselves. We took a taxi across town and got on the 11:30 ferry. A difference of ferries:
The Gambia: D5 to cross (15 cents)
Senegal: 2500CFA to cross ($5)
The Gambia: People rush to get on as fast as they can as soon as the doors open.
Senegal: A line was formed before the door open, a little chaos as expected, but not much.
The Gambia: If you want a seat, you run like the wind, pushing anyone out of the way you can to get to the top of the ferry.
Senegal: Why run? There's plenty of seats!
The Gambia: You are crammed in like a can of sardines.
Senegal: A leisurely ride sitting at the top of the boat. No one is in the aisles.
What a difference going one country over can make! A half-hour later we were on the island. This is the same island that President Bush gave his speech on when he came to Senegal a while back. It's only 45 acres big and was developed to expand Europe's slave trade. An estimated 20 million Africans passed through the island from mid-1500s to the mid-1800s. A former slave house is now a museum.
Climbing the small hill to the top of the island, about 150 feet, we could see the city of Dakar in the distance. In one view you have villagers pumping water and doing laundry by hand, while if they look up they see skyscrapers in the city skyline. After walking around a bit, and trying to get into the museum (they were closed) we just walked to the pier and laid down. We fell asleep.
We were woken up by the next ferry over carrying people from our group yelling at us when they noticed us sleeping. We have pictures of them on the boat and they have pictures of us being awoken by the boat. Trying to catch up to them, we gave up as we saw them spreading in random directions - so we went to lunch. We saw this nice restaurant by the water and sat down to eat. While looking at the menu a smell came over us, which wasn't like the usual Peace Corps smell. It was raw sewage. The waiter asked if we wanted to move inside, and without much discussion everything was quickly moved. Three of us ordered this flaming-banana-type contraption for a dessert. I didn't know whether it was the alcohol that didn't burn off completely, the banana itself, or the combination of the two but I had to make a trip to the bathroom. When I got back and after we paid I realized the 10,000CFA that I borrowed from Bear that morning was gone. It didn't fall out, and it wasn't in my wallet, and that was all the money I had.
Walking around some more we came across a television crew filming the Slave Museum. We tried to go in, but it was closed on Mondays of all days. There was one guy playing violin on the rocks by the old slave quarters which would have made a nice picture:
Me: "Do you mind if I take your picture?"
Violinist: "[In French] Do you speak French?"
Me: "Annamarie!"
Annamarie: "[In French] Do you mind if he takes your picture?"
Violinist: "[In English] Oh, you can speak English that's fine."
Me: "[In English, for the second time; quite confused] Do you mind if I
take your picture?"
Violinist: "Actually yes. I just want to relax."
Me: "Ok. Thank you."
Violinist: "But if you see the camera crew, can you tell them I'm here?"
Still walking around we came across a Credit Union. Hoping they could do a cash advance I asked Annamarie to speak French. A few problems: I didn't have the VISA card, just the number. The card I did have, American Express, no one uses in Senegal, and they aren't a bank. No luck there.
We took the next ferry back to the mainland and started walking back to our place. After just relaxing for a while, Doug showed up. For the next hour or so we all vegged out in front of the TV, something we all haven't done in eight months. Again, nothing was on TV except a Discover program on the science of Indy 500 cars. While the four of us were watching, quite intriqued, Annamarie was calling all the homestays for our group to see who wanted to go back to Banjul with us. We were thinking of renting out a seven-seater car and needed two more people. If no one wanted those two seats we would just buy those out and just have more room. While relaxing Bear found my 10,000CFA which somehow got back to him during the exchange of bills while paying at the restaurant.
A few calls came back, a few promises made and broke, and in the end no one wanted the two seats. Robert called back and asked what we were doing for dinner. Mary gave a nice description of a pizza restaurant a few blocks away. We met up with Robert by the huge Cathedral near the Embassy. He was dressed in a full suit made of fabric entirely covered with the "John Deere" logo and tractors. "Going to the Banquet?" we asked.
The Banquet was set for 7PM for dinner and the Awards Ceremony and at 10:00 the party would begin. The tickets for the Banquet were 15,000CFA. While not a lot of money, only $30, it's quite expensive for us. The most expensive dinner we've been to in The Gambia cost roughly only $15. None of us could afford it, or really cared to dress up that much for a meal when we could have pizza instead, the exception being Robert who wore his "John Deere" suit to the pizza parlor just to attend the party afterwards.
Three pizzas were ordered for the six of us. Figuring this was our last night we decided to splurge more and buy another pizza for four of us who wanted more, and then dessert. The dessert was real ice cream, a rarity in The Gambia!
At dinner we figured out the plan for the next morning: Ariane and Annamarie would meet at the American Club at 5:30 and meet at our place at 6:00. Doug would just arrive at our place at 6:00 and we would head out and get one of the first cars out of the country.
My recollection of the next morning: I hear the guard talking, the door opening and closing a few times. Mary said she would be walking the dog early in the morning so I thought it was her. But then I hear the voices of Doug, Ariane, Jessamy, and Annamarie outside. I grabbed the alarm clock, went to the bathroom for the light and checked the time. 6:45.
"BEAR! We have to get up!"
He wakes violently out of bed while I run down the stairs to let them in. Doug was the first to arrive, on time, at around 5:45. He was waiting inside the compound but on the driveway for the past hour. Annamarie and Jessamy showed up later and Ariane was last. Ariane thought we'd all be waiting for her since she slept through her alarm. As we're frantically packing we're trying to figure out what happened. It wasn't until the drive back that it was figured out that I was the first to go to bed and I set the alarm, a clock I never used before, and forgot to put the alarm on. Bear, too tired to realize that I never used the clock before, just went to bed. The 5:00 time for the alarm came and went without a sound.
The six of us took two taxis to the car-park. Even at six-thirty in the morning there's a crowd of drivers, and other assortment of people trying to get rides or fix people up with rides for a small payment. One guy points to the bus and announces:
"Yes. Bus to Barra. It's leaving now-now!"
We walked to the bus and it's completely empty. "Now-now" means "later-later", or more correctly whenever it gets filled up. A group from our group took that bus later on during the day and it didn't leave until 11:00.
We finally find a car with seven seats and agree to a price with the driver. I sat in the back with Doug and the empty seat; Annamarie, Ariane, and Jessamy in the middle; and Bear in the front (leg-room). After everyone is in and set to leave the car wouldn't start. We had five other Senegalese men pushing the car around, rotating it in this direction, pushing it in that direction, running trying to push it, turning a corner. This lasted a good 10-15 minutes. The car wouldn't start. There was small talk of switching cars but then the car started and off we went.
The driver, ignoring all small talk in whatever language we chose to speak, just drove like an old lady down smooth roads. Gambian drivers driving down the anti-roads on the south side of the country drive faster. It wasn't that bad, but when you have smooth roads to drive on, take advantage of it! The next four hours were smooth, but slow, sailing. It was when we arrived in Kaolack when things got interesting.
Kaolack is the second-largest city in Senegal. He pulled over the side of the road and got out. This we were used to, as earlier in the morning he either had to go to the bathroom or get some water. It was around lunch-time and so most of us got out of the car either to stretch or get some food from the bidicks, maybe pieces of bread or some small pieces of cake you can buy. Jessamy and I were the only ones left in the taxi when the back door opened, accessing our luggage. Both of our arms reach across to stop the Senegalese men from taking our luggage for some yet unknown reason.
They're trying to tell us something but no one understands. Annamarie shows up but the French is going too fast and so we're frantically waiting for Doug to show up. Doug's carrying two loaves of bread as he arrives, Annamarie's carrying three; Ariane and Jessamy are outside holding onto some luggage; I'm in the backseat with my arms across the rest of the luggage and Bear's sitting in the front seat casually waiting. We switch cars: switch #1.
Within five minutes all of our stuff is out of the second car, Doug is talking Wollof trying to understand why we have to switch vehicles again; twenty Senegalese men are trying to explain to him and also explain to the driver why we don't want to. (We think we might get ripped off, or more seriously be stranded.) The first driver is holding on to one strap of Jessamy's luggage while Doug is holding on to the other. Everyone in our group is just standing back waiting for whatever will happen to happen and work its way through.
I'm not sure entirely what happened, or why we had to do this; but this is what happened: After we transferred everything to car #2, we were told to transfer everything again to this other car around the corner. Switch #2. That car drove around the block back to the first car we were in, and we were told to get back into it. Switch #3. Back comes our old driver and he drives a few miles out of town, across a bridge and stops. A new car shows up and another argument arises between the new driver, our old driver, and Doug. Most of us were reminded of old Western movies of the showdown at high-noon between the sheriff and the bad-guy of town. We were told yet again to transfer everything to this new car: transfer #4.
This new car turns back and starts heading back into town! It was then that Doug explained what just happened: The old driver can't take us to Barra, let alone the border, since he had no passport. He thought we understood that when we hired him at Dakar (apparently, only Bear knew and forgot to tell us) and so we had to get this new driver who could take us. The reason why he was heading back into town was to get gas.
With the car filled up with gas, and a rejection of someone asking if they could get a free ride, we were off. This driver knew how to drive! With the road just twenty feet away he decides to go off-road for a few miles. Our "whoos!" and "wheees!" made him laugh and he drove faster. The time we lost with the first driver was more than made up with the time we gained with the second one. Throughout the trip the temperature was over 100F, which was just at the threshold of being uncomfortable, we were so accustomed to high temperatures.
At three-thirty we arrived at the Senegal / The Gambia border. Individually the guard asked us:
"What occupation?"
"Teacher."
"What occupation?"
"We are all teachers."
He still asked us individually our occupation and what town we lived in. We caught the 4:30 ferry to Banjul and just hired a taxi for D125 to take us back to our place. We had omelets for dinner (the only food we had that day other then bread, bananas, and small cakes) and called it a day at eight.
SCHEDULE OF EVENTS
Friday, February 13th
WELCOME PARTY
At Club Atlantique
Spaghetti Dinner & Dancing
6:00pm - ???
Saturday, Febraury 14th
LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!
At Ebbett's Field, ISD, French Military Base, and Suffolk University
8:30am - 7:00pm
W.A.I.S.T. PARTY
At Marine House
Food, Beverages, Pool, Foosball, Dancing!!
ID CARD IS REQUIRED FOR ENTRY
7:00pm - 2am!!
Sunday, Febraury 15th
DAY TWO OF THE GAMES
At Ebbett's Field, ISD, French Military Base, and Suffolk University
8:30am-7:00pm
BONFIRE BASH
At Ebbett's Field
Beverages and Bonfire
7:30pm - You can't party no more!!
DINNER AVAILABLE AT CLUB ATLANTIQUE
Monday, February 16th
FINAL DAYS OF GAMES
At Ebbett's Field and ISD
8:00am - 5:00pm
W.A.I.S.T. BANQUET
At Casino Terrou Bi
7:00pm Dinner and Awards Ceremony
10:00pm Let the Revelry Begin!
==
31st Annual WAIST
Schedule of Games
Competive League (CL)
Senegal #1
Dakar Academy Mad Dogs
Silver Spirits
Guinea Fowls
Dakar Academy Staff
Embassy Patriots
Dohomey Dodgers
Korea / Japan #1
Social League (SL)
Senegal Tamba
Diongama Thiof
Korea / Japan #2
Gambia PCV
Rim Rear Guard
Camel Crew
Dakar Academy Pirates
Mali PCV
Rim Frontal Attack
Senegal #2
Baobob Bashers
Bamako Blitz
Guinea PCV
Senegal Kaolack
Ball Fetishers
French School
Both Leagues will play a round-robin of three (3) games on Saturday to determine seedings. Home team during round-robin play is the second team listed. Double-Elimination play will begin on Sunday. Home team for Double-Elimination play will be the highest seed for games CL 1-4, and SL 1-8. A flip of the coin will determine home team for those games with teams having equal losses. The schedule for Sunday's games will be posted at the Marine House on Saturday night.
All games are scheduled 70 minutes apart. No new inning will begin after 55 minutes. The scorekeeper will keep the official time. No extra innings will be played on Saturday, therefore tie games are possible. During all games except the championship games, the batter will have a 1-1 count when coming up to the bat.
All teams should be ready to play at the scheduled start time. Teams MUST have at least nine (9) roster players to begin a game, or to be eligible to be awarded a forfeit. A forfeit will be declared ten (10) minutes after the scheduled starting time. Any delay is counted a splaying time, and will have no bearing on the start of the following game.
Each team will provide two (2) umpires and one (1) scorekeeper for games as indicated on the umpire schedule. Ball-strike indicators, and score sheets/pencils will be provided. In the event scheduled umpires and/or scorekeeper fails to show, each team will provide an umpire, either a spectator or a player, and the home team will keep the official score. Games will not be delayed because of no-show umpires!! Balls, rules, instructions and schedules will be provided at each field.
Scorekeepers will ensure that team names, game time, and the field are on each official score sheet. Runs scored will be verified after each half-inning. After each game, scorekeepers will turn score sheets in to the cashier at ISD or Ebbetts Fields.
Note: Teams and spectators can only access the French Field via the shuttle buses. Please ensure your team arrives in front of the American Club at least one (1) hour before your scheduled game time for transportation to the French Field. See the shuttle schedule. All persons riding the shuttle MUST fill out the clipboard upon boarding the shuttle. Only beverages will be sold at the French and Suffolk fields.
There will be food and beverages available at both Ebbets and ISD fields.
Thursday night we had a meeting at the Stage to go over last minute passport, medical info, costs, and other stuff. Even though over thirty people in our group (roughly a third of all Gambia Volunteers) chose to attend, only twenty would play softball. I signed up. That night John C. and Jeff Z. (the Co-Captains / Organizers) brought out the jerseys we had to paint. Considering we all had to meet at 5:30am some people chose to stay up all night, a few of those helped to paint the jerseys. The front had our team name, "Fishbowl," and the slogan on the sleeve of the shirt. It was an eye in which the iris is a fish instead of an iris. The reason for "Fishbowl", other then the name of the place a few volunteers stay at, is the term that we all feel on occasions that we live in a giant fishbowl for the amusement of Gambians. Everything we do is watched. Another term some people throw around is "Toubob TV".
We had our choice of names and numbers. It really didn't matter what name we used or even someone had the same number. I chose the number '42' from Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy. A lot of the science people got that reference and laughed. For the name I put more thought into it and told them to put me down for 'Timshel.' Throughout the week only three people got that reference - Joe G, Kate L, and Annamarie. The word 'Timshel' is Hebrew for "Thou mayest" which is the underlying theme for "East of Eden".
At five in the morning Annamarie, Ariane, and I caught a taxi to the Stage. Not everyone was up yet and those who stayed up were still working on the jerseys. Within a half-hour the vans pulled up and chaos as everyone scrambled to get ready and put everything into the vans. We drove to Banjul to wait for the first ferry, which would leave at seven. We were almost an hour early. As we were waiting for the ferry to arrive we noticed that the "official" baseball bat we wanted to bring was back at the Peace Corps office. A quick phone call later a message was given out to a volunteer at the office not going to WAIST:
"Put the bat in a taxi and tell him to go to the ferry terminal. Don't pay more than D200 for it."
Finally the ferry arrives, we were first on board. As the ferry was about to leave, John C., who stayed behind at the terminal waiting for the taxi/bat combination to show up ran up to the ferry bat in hand. The bat made a solo trip to Banjul and now was heading to Dakar. We cross the river. No bus, yet. We sit around and order bean-sandwiches for breakfast and a few of us exchange money on the black market. The bus pulls up, and we get in. Only forty-five minutes into the trip we're at the Senegal border. All passports are "exit" stamped and we cross "no-man's-land" to await the "entrance" stamp for Senegal. The whole process took about a half-hour for thirty-some passports.
The next eight hours we're driving through Senegal. At six in the afternoon we arrive at Dakar. Paying the driver a little extra, he drops us off at the "Club Atlantique" which was formerly known, and better known as, "The American Club." The club is located across the street from the Atlantic Ocean and is completely sealed in. We needed to show either Peace Corps ID or passports to get in, or the guards wouldn't let us in. Inside there's tennis courts, volleyball nets, a swimming pool, two bars, a dance floor, and enough tables for the hundreds of other people to show up. We met other volunteers from Senegal, Mauritania, Mali and Guinea, to name a few. It was the largest concentration of Americans that I've been with since leaving the U.S.
We were told that we would be in "home stay". My interpretation of that phrase was living with Senegalese people. Our home stay was quite different. Embassy staff and other Americans living in the area were nice enough to have us stay in their homes for a few days. Bear and I were told we were roommates and that our homestay was Mary, a very nice woman who works at the Embassy. After dinner at the club she drove us to her house. Her house was all the way across town, about a twenty minute car ride. Dakar is not like New York City big, but, as some people compared it, to as Baltimore sized. The American Club was on one end of the town, and our house was the other end. No problem. Mary introduced us to the guard, so we were allowed in without her, and gave us a key. As she was showing us her home we finally realized how out-of-touch we were by living in The Gambia for eight months. Things like microwaves, real refrigerators, ice cubes, digital TV, hot water (not to mention water pressure) just amazed us.
Some people went out that night to party but we were both exhausted and decided to watch TV for a little bit and go to bed. An interesting thing occurred: we had not watched a single television show in eight months, and here is digital TV with hundreds of channels - with nothing on! We watched Bloopers of Dog Shows for a half-hour. The dogs would run up to the jump and run head-first into it or run to go up a hill and fall back down. After that we watched two episodes of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"
The next morning I walked downstairs to the kitchen and noticed she had laid out plates, glasses, and silverware for us. She told us the night before where the bread and cereal were. I couldn't find the cereal but found some bread in the fridge. Bear came down a little later and we were just eating the bread and drinking the orange juice when Mary walks down:
"You're eating that bread?"
"Yes. It was the one I found in the refrigerator."
"Oh, I was going the throw that one out, it's getting stale."
Bear and I just look at each other thinking it was actually better bread then we get in The Gambia, and still eating the now stale bread she told us that everything was all set out in the dining room. Sure enough, as we walked around the corner there's cereal, milk, and newly cooked loaves of bread. Just like any American breakfast. I must have had three bowls of "Honey Nut Cheerios" while reading a Calvin & Hobbes cartoon book.
Our first game was set for 9:40 at Ebbetts Field, playing Korea/Japan #2 (K/J Social team, they had a competitive team as well, #1). Ebbets Field is located a block away from the American Club and is directly next to the ocean. If one hits a foul ball behind him far enough the ball would land in the water. The team slowly started to arrive and we all put on our jerseys, made a roster, and starting playing. The first game I just watched. It was quite entertaining as we had the stereo playing music, drinks and food were available (hot-dogs!), and Kelly P. hit a homerun for our team.
I brought one of the only two hats I brought into country, the old US Postal Service hat I found in the streets. There were a few joking comments that I was the only one qualified to wear that hat. I gave the hat to Sarah G. to wear when I wasn't playing and she was.
The odd thing about playing softball, or even being in Dakar, was the security. Every place we went, where we gathered, we had to show IDs. At the American Club two guards were at the entrance. For every baseball field we played at (there were four total) two guards were at the entrance. When teams were playing a guard was at every corner of the field and in between the corners, for a total of eight guards for the field plus two for the gate so a total of ten guards for every field. A bit over-doing it, but safe nonetheless. It reminded me of the movie "King Ralph" with John Goodman. He's trying to have a romantic dinner with a date in the palace and was about to say "Well, it's just the two of us," when he notices all the guards and instead says "Well, it's just the twelve of us."
First game: lost.
The second game was the same field at noon. We all just relaxed, practiced at the batting cage, or just watched the game being played until our turn was up. I was put on the roster. Struck out.
Second game: lost.
The third game was an hour later again in the same field. Bear and Sarah G. helped me improve my batting by giving me pointers at the batting cage. During the third game I went up to bat and Kate yelled from the side-line "Thou Mayest!" Thou Mayest gets a strike. Apparently the practice helped and I actually hit the ball the second time around and only struck out when running to first. The third game we also were playing a team who lost two games earlier and John made the comment: "Well, one of us is going to lose our losing streak!" It was them.
Third game: lost.
By then it was 3:30 and the next planned event wasn't until seven. Bear, Doug, and I went back to Doug's place for a while. Doug noticed the front-gate was locked and couldn't get in. The guard didn't recognize him and wouldn't open it for him. He explained who he was and why he had a key to the door, inside the gate, all in Wollof. The guard wouldn't let him in. We were about to give up and just go back to our place when Doug noticed a small button by the gate. "What's this?" he said as he pushed it. A buzzer rang in the house. We all laughed at the forgotten knowledge of doorbells. His host family opened up the balcony and told the guard it was ok to let us in. While walking in, still laughing at the doorbell incident, Doug told a story that the night before he put something in the microwave and his host had to say that you couldn't put that type of dish in the microwave. All these common-sense American styles of living (non-microwave able bowls, doorbells, bread) were quite non-existent for us for the first day or so. It was as if we were transplanted directly from an African village to New York City and wondering how the elevator works.
We stayed at Doug's for a while, talked to the host family. They don't work at the Embassy but work at the American School. While talking she asked if we wanted any pizza. Not refusing any type of American food luxury, we all eagerly agreed. We all went into the kitchen and she served us home-made pizza that was sitting in the refrigerator. I was about to just eat it as it was when she told me:
"You can heat it up in the microwave."
That thought never occurred to me until she said it. I put the plate in the microwave, closed it, and just stared at the random dials. It wasn't like the microwaves back home. I couldn't figure out how to work the microwave! The husband helped out and the wife jokingly made a comment that three guys with college degrees can't figure out what to do with a microwave. (To be fair, the husband did honestly point out it was a European-style microwave and was quite different instructions then American ones).
Having stayed an hour or so we decided to go back to our place to get ready for dinner. That being Saturday it was Valentine's Day Dinner. The dinner was going to be at the Marine House at seven PM. It was where all the Marines were staying that were stationed there. To be honest, most girls were going because of the Marines and most guys were going because that's where the girls were going to go.
We three arrived back at the other end of town and starting walking to the house. Going in the wrong direction we ended up being a little late getting back to the house. Got ready to go out and got a taxi. A few things to consider here:
All taxi drivers speak either French or Wollof. You'd be extremely lucky if you find one that speaks English.
The price is negotiable but usually starts anywhere from 1500CFA to 2000CFA for a trip across town. A quick way to exchange from CFA [Communauté Financière d'Afrique (franc of the African Financial Community) ] to dollars is to multiply by two and drop three zeros. 1000CFA = $2.
We were told the Marine House is on the same street as this Chinese restaurant that, in French, stands for "the Golden Nut".
We let Doug do the talking, in Wollof. He explained we want to go to a Chinese restaurant by the name of "the Golden Nut" (he gave the name in French). Whenever Doug didn't know a word or phrase in Wollof, Bear helped out in the French he knew. Linguistically, I was just along for the ride. The driver said he knew where it was and started driving. He stopped to ask someone where it was; that person told him where it was. The driver said now he knew where it was, and continued to stop once in a while to make sure the direction he was going was where the restaurant was. He didn't know. An hour into the cab ride we just crossed the bridge over the freeway into town and down a street filled with empty factories and warehouses. There was no possible way it could be in this part of town. We agreed to just pay the guy extra and take us to the American Club. Doug explained to him that we no longer wanted to go to the Golden Nut, irregardless of how close he thought he was to it, and to drive us all the way back to The American Club. We would pay him an additional 1000CFA. ($2).
He pulled over the car and got out. He went to the bidick on the side of the street, bought a cigarette, got back inside the cab and without moving yet started smoking it. A few breaths later he put the car in drive and drove us directly the American Club. The dinner was supposed to start at seven PM. It was now a quarter after eight when we arrived at The American Club. We showed our ID and got in. Luckily Sarah S. was there and knew where the Marine House was. She wasn't going to the party but would walk with us to it.
Twenty minutes later we arrived at the sign pointing to the Chinese Restaurant we just spent an hour trying to find, and a five minutes after that we were at the Marine House. The informational papers we were given at the start of the weekend had "ID CARD IS REQUIRED FOR ENTRY" in big, bold letters for the Marine House. They weren't kidding. Two guards checked ID, and two more checked as you walked though a metal detector. We walked in and ran into more people from our group. Being late for dinner, even though they were still serving it, we got information that it wasn't worth it. A small group of us decided to just leave and go out for dinner: Bear, Ariane, Annamarie, Doug, and I. Where to go that we knew was close? The Golden Nut! Dinner was a blast! It was like any other Chinese Restaurant in the US. (I haven't been to a Chinese Restaurant in China, so that comparison can't be made). The service was exceptional; we didn't have to wait an hour for just the bread to arrive as some places are in The Gambia, and the food was filling. The huge lazy-Susan in the middle of the table was the most fun. Going back to the party Bear and I just realized it was turning into a huge frat party and so we left to go home.
The next morning, Sunday, I got up to play softball while Bear decided to stay inside for the day. The first game was set for 9:40am. Here's where a problem comes into play: The Marine Party didn't end until 2 a.m., and most people went out afterwards. I ran into Sarah Grimm and Joo walking to the field and John C. was so glad to see us and yelled to Sarah "Sarah! You're up!" By the rules you need at least nine people to play in order not to forfeit the game. You have ten minutes after the playtime to get those nine people. Us three were five minutes late and were, respectively, the ninth, tenth, and eleventh people to show up to play at that early in the morning. The first time I played, I hit the ball and ran to first, but because of a penalty (the ball hitting me) was allowed to go to second. Igot out going to third. Played one more time at bat and got out again going to first. Played RF for a while before was put in DH when more people showed up.
Fourth game: lost.
It was around eleven and they had three more games that afternoon. Depending on how well we played that determined if we played on Monday. I sat around at the American Club for a while, reading, until I decided to skip the rest of the games and to try and find where we have to take the GRE next month.
I don't speak any French, other then the phrase "Do you speak French?" in French, which is no help; and I only know how to speak Wollof in the third-person. Nonetheless, off I went. A few blocks later I saw an American flag, and thinking it's the Embassy decided to try and get in and see if anybody knows where it is. I had my passport out, as we had grown accustomed to having it ready at all times, and was approaching the guards. The guards I did approach were not the guards to the Embassy, they were the guards who were the guards for the place across the street. It wasn't even the Embassy, it was the Ambassador's house. I could tell they were saying, in French, "How can I help?" or some phrase like that. Out comes the Wollof. I showed them my passport, with picture and point to my name, Michael. Then out comes "Michael wants to go to The West African Research Center." Two of them point in two different directions. I even had the address written on a piece of paper, in French, and no one knew where the streets were. Of the two I picked the direction of the most confident guard as he was yelling to the other guard.
I walked a few blocks and came across a gas station. I asked the guard there, he pointed in the direction I just came back from. Figuring I must have passed it, I went halfway back and went down a side street. Ran into another guard and asked him. He was excited and was trying to tell me something. I didn't understanding anything he was saying. I gave him my notebook and pen and he just drew two parallel lines with two more perpendicular to it and put two X's. One X for us, one for where I needed to go. I was only one block away. Walking that one block I passed the Golden Nut and thirty seconds later I was at the West African Research Center. We were half-a-block away from where we had to go the night before and didn't realize it. All this took about an hour to find. I wrote down all the contact information and drew a map and decided to just walk back to the house on the other end of town. It was now about one in the afternoon. The walk back was a little more than hour long. Walked along the main road going parallel to the Atlantic. I passed a monument of two orange pieces of stone sticking up of the ground which the Americans dubbed "the French Fry Monument." Another had a huge metal person playing a trumpet-like instrument at the entrance to a gate. That monument was constructed to celebrate the Year 2000 celebrations.
Back at the house they were just finishing lunch. Bear had stayed inside all day just relaxing. For the rest of the day I stayed inside, reading, and took a nap. At 7:30pm there was going to be a Bonfire Bash at Ebbett's Field. Around that time I left to go, leaving Bear at the house, and went to the field. There's a little trouble in being on time, which is that no one expects you to be on time. They hadn't set up anything yet and didn't even have the ticket-collection person at the gate yet. I just walked right in (after showing ID to the guard) and sat down at the bench.
While reading, waiting for people to show up from our group, I was slowly being moved down the bench by other people showing up and starting drinking. At the end of the bench, where I stayed the longest, the sound equipment guys told me they had to set up, so I switched to a plastic chair. Now they needed chairs to put the speakers up so I was then left by a chair next to the speaker, which was playing, but also was next to the light. Around eight or so the first of our group, Kate L. and Jenni, showed up. They said after I left the game we actually won the next two but lost the third one.
Total wins: 2; loses: 5.
We weren't playing on Monday.
The bonfire was fun. It had all you can drink (alcoholic and non-alcoholic), all you can eat (snacks), a DJ, and a bonfire itself. The bonfire was going to go until "You can't party no more!!" but I left at ten. The next morning we all met up again at the American Club to go to Goree Island. We agreed to meet at 10:30, but by that time only four of us were ready to go, compared to the eight or so that were interested the night before. Ariane, Annamarie, Bear, and I just left to go to the island ourselves. We took a taxi across town and got on the 11:30 ferry. A difference of ferries:
The Gambia: D5 to cross (15 cents)
Senegal: 2500CFA to cross ($5)
The Gambia: People rush to get on as fast as they can as soon as the doors open.
Senegal: A line was formed before the door open, a little chaos as expected, but not much.
The Gambia: If you want a seat, you run like the wind, pushing anyone out of the way you can to get to the top of the ferry.
Senegal: Why run? There's plenty of seats!
The Gambia: You are crammed in like a can of sardines.
Senegal: A leisurely ride sitting at the top of the boat. No one is in the aisles.
What a difference going one country over can make! A half-hour later we were on the island. This is the same island that President Bush gave his speech on when he came to Senegal a while back. It's only 45 acres big and was developed to expand Europe's slave trade. An estimated 20 million Africans passed through the island from mid-1500s to the mid-1800s. A former slave house is now a museum.
Climbing the small hill to the top of the island, about 150 feet, we could see the city of Dakar in the distance. In one view you have villagers pumping water and doing laundry by hand, while if they look up they see skyscrapers in the city skyline. After walking around a bit, and trying to get into the museum (they were closed) we just walked to the pier and laid down. We fell asleep.
We were woken up by the next ferry over carrying people from our group yelling at us when they noticed us sleeping. We have pictures of them on the boat and they have pictures of us being awoken by the boat. Trying to catch up to them, we gave up as we saw them spreading in random directions - so we went to lunch. We saw this nice restaurant by the water and sat down to eat. While looking at the menu a smell came over us, which wasn't like the usual Peace Corps smell. It was raw sewage. The waiter asked if we wanted to move inside, and without much discussion everything was quickly moved. Three of us ordered this flaming-banana-type contraption for a dessert. I didn't know whether it was the alcohol that didn't burn off completely, the banana itself, or the combination of the two but I had to make a trip to the bathroom. When I got back and after we paid I realized the 10,000CFA that I borrowed from Bear that morning was gone. It didn't fall out, and it wasn't in my wallet, and that was all the money I had.
Walking around some more we came across a television crew filming the Slave Museum. We tried to go in, but it was closed on Mondays of all days. There was one guy playing violin on the rocks by the old slave quarters which would have made a nice picture:
Me: "Do you mind if I take your picture?"
Violinist: "[In French] Do you speak French?"
Me: "Annamarie!"
Annamarie: "[In French] Do you mind if he takes your picture?"
Violinist: "[In English] Oh, you can speak English that's fine."
Me: "[In English, for the second time; quite confused] Do you mind if I
take your picture?"
Violinist: "Actually yes. I just want to relax."
Me: "Ok. Thank you."
Violinist: "But if you see the camera crew, can you tell them I'm here?"
Still walking around we came across a Credit Union. Hoping they could do a cash advance I asked Annamarie to speak French. A few problems: I didn't have the VISA card, just the number. The card I did have, American Express, no one uses in Senegal, and they aren't a bank. No luck there.
We took the next ferry back to the mainland and started walking back to our place. After just relaxing for a while, Doug showed up. For the next hour or so we all vegged out in front of the TV, something we all haven't done in eight months. Again, nothing was on TV except a Discover program on the science of Indy 500 cars. While the four of us were watching, quite intriqued, Annamarie was calling all the homestays for our group to see who wanted to go back to Banjul with us. We were thinking of renting out a seven-seater car and needed two more people. If no one wanted those two seats we would just buy those out and just have more room. While relaxing Bear found my 10,000CFA which somehow got back to him during the exchange of bills while paying at the restaurant.
A few calls came back, a few promises made and broke, and in the end no one wanted the two seats. Robert called back and asked what we were doing for dinner. Mary gave a nice description of a pizza restaurant a few blocks away. We met up with Robert by the huge Cathedral near the Embassy. He was dressed in a full suit made of fabric entirely covered with the "John Deere" logo and tractors. "Going to the Banquet?" we asked.
The Banquet was set for 7PM for dinner and the Awards Ceremony and at 10:00 the party would begin. The tickets for the Banquet were 15,000CFA. While not a lot of money, only $30, it's quite expensive for us. The most expensive dinner we've been to in The Gambia cost roughly only $15. None of us could afford it, or really cared to dress up that much for a meal when we could have pizza instead, the exception being Robert who wore his "John Deere" suit to the pizza parlor just to attend the party afterwards.
Three pizzas were ordered for the six of us. Figuring this was our last night we decided to splurge more and buy another pizza for four of us who wanted more, and then dessert. The dessert was real ice cream, a rarity in The Gambia!
At dinner we figured out the plan for the next morning: Ariane and Annamarie would meet at the American Club at 5:30 and meet at our place at 6:00. Doug would just arrive at our place at 6:00 and we would head out and get one of the first cars out of the country.
My recollection of the next morning: I hear the guard talking, the door opening and closing a few times. Mary said she would be walking the dog early in the morning so I thought it was her. But then I hear the voices of Doug, Ariane, Jessamy, and Annamarie outside. I grabbed the alarm clock, went to the bathroom for the light and checked the time. 6:45.
"BEAR! We have to get up!"
He wakes violently out of bed while I run down the stairs to let them in. Doug was the first to arrive, on time, at around 5:45. He was waiting inside the compound but on the driveway for the past hour. Annamarie and Jessamy showed up later and Ariane was last. Ariane thought we'd all be waiting for her since she slept through her alarm. As we're frantically packing we're trying to figure out what happened. It wasn't until the drive back that it was figured out that I was the first to go to bed and I set the alarm, a clock I never used before, and forgot to put the alarm on. Bear, too tired to realize that I never used the clock before, just went to bed. The 5:00 time for the alarm came and went without a sound.
The six of us took two taxis to the car-park. Even at six-thirty in the morning there's a crowd of drivers, and other assortment of people trying to get rides or fix people up with rides for a small payment. One guy points to the bus and announces:
"Yes. Bus to Barra. It's leaving now-now!"
We walked to the bus and it's completely empty. "Now-now" means "later-later", or more correctly whenever it gets filled up. A group from our group took that bus later on during the day and it didn't leave until 11:00.
We finally find a car with seven seats and agree to a price with the driver. I sat in the back with Doug and the empty seat; Annamarie, Ariane, and Jessamy in the middle; and Bear in the front (leg-room). After everyone is in and set to leave the car wouldn't start. We had five other Senegalese men pushing the car around, rotating it in this direction, pushing it in that direction, running trying to push it, turning a corner. This lasted a good 10-15 minutes. The car wouldn't start. There was small talk of switching cars but then the car started and off we went.
The driver, ignoring all small talk in whatever language we chose to speak, just drove like an old lady down smooth roads. Gambian drivers driving down the anti-roads on the south side of the country drive faster. It wasn't that bad, but when you have smooth roads to drive on, take advantage of it! The next four hours were smooth, but slow, sailing. It was when we arrived in Kaolack when things got interesting.
Kaolack is the second-largest city in Senegal. He pulled over the side of the road and got out. This we were used to, as earlier in the morning he either had to go to the bathroom or get some water. It was around lunch-time and so most of us got out of the car either to stretch or get some food from the bidicks, maybe pieces of bread or some small pieces of cake you can buy. Jessamy and I were the only ones left in the taxi when the back door opened, accessing our luggage. Both of our arms reach across to stop the Senegalese men from taking our luggage for some yet unknown reason.
They're trying to tell us something but no one understands. Annamarie shows up but the French is going too fast and so we're frantically waiting for Doug to show up. Doug's carrying two loaves of bread as he arrives, Annamarie's carrying three; Ariane and Jessamy are outside holding onto some luggage; I'm in the backseat with my arms across the rest of the luggage and Bear's sitting in the front seat casually waiting. We switch cars: switch #1.
Within five minutes all of our stuff is out of the second car, Doug is talking Wollof trying to understand why we have to switch vehicles again; twenty Senegalese men are trying to explain to him and also explain to the driver why we don't want to. (We think we might get ripped off, or more seriously be stranded.) The first driver is holding on to one strap of Jessamy's luggage while Doug is holding on to the other. Everyone in our group is just standing back waiting for whatever will happen to happen and work its way through.
I'm not sure entirely what happened, or why we had to do this; but this is what happened: After we transferred everything to car #2, we were told to transfer everything again to this other car around the corner. Switch #2. That car drove around the block back to the first car we were in, and we were told to get back into it. Switch #3. Back comes our old driver and he drives a few miles out of town, across a bridge and stops. A new car shows up and another argument arises between the new driver, our old driver, and Doug. Most of us were reminded of old Western movies of the showdown at high-noon between the sheriff and the bad-guy of town. We were told yet again to transfer everything to this new car: transfer #4.
This new car turns back and starts heading back into town! It was then that Doug explained what just happened: The old driver can't take us to Barra, let alone the border, since he had no passport. He thought we understood that when we hired him at Dakar (apparently, only Bear knew and forgot to tell us) and so we had to get this new driver who could take us. The reason why he was heading back into town was to get gas.
With the car filled up with gas, and a rejection of someone asking if they could get a free ride, we were off. This driver knew how to drive! With the road just twenty feet away he decides to go off-road for a few miles. Our "whoos!" and "wheees!" made him laugh and he drove faster. The time we lost with the first driver was more than made up with the time we gained with the second one. Throughout the trip the temperature was over 100F, which was just at the threshold of being uncomfortable, we were so accustomed to high temperatures.
At three-thirty we arrived at the Senegal / The Gambia border. Individually the guard asked us:
"What occupation?"
"Teacher."
"What occupation?"
"We are all teachers."
He still asked us individually our occupation and what town we lived in. We caught the 4:30 ferry to Banjul and just hired a taxi for D125 to take us back to our place. We had omelets for dinner (the only food we had that day other then bread, bananas, and small cakes) and called it a day at eight.
SCHEDULE OF EVENTS
Friday, February 13th
WELCOME PARTY
At Club Atlantique
Spaghetti Dinner & Dancing
6:00pm - ???
Saturday, Febraury 14th
LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!
At Ebbett's Field, ISD, French Military Base, and Suffolk University
8:30am - 7:00pm
W.A.I.S.T. PARTY
At Marine House
Food, Beverages, Pool, Foosball, Dancing!!
ID CARD IS REQUIRED FOR ENTRY
7:00pm - 2am!!
Sunday, Febraury 15th
DAY TWO OF THE GAMES
At Ebbett's Field, ISD, French Military Base, and Suffolk University
8:30am-7:00pm
BONFIRE BASH
At Ebbett's Field
Beverages and Bonfire
7:30pm - You can't party no more!!
DINNER AVAILABLE AT CLUB ATLANTIQUE
Monday, February 16th
FINAL DAYS OF GAMES
At Ebbett's Field and ISD
8:00am - 5:00pm
W.A.I.S.T. BANQUET
At Casino Terrou Bi
7:00pm Dinner and Awards Ceremony
10:00pm Let the Revelry Begin!
==
31st Annual WAIST
Schedule of Games
Competive League (CL)
Senegal #1
Dakar Academy Mad Dogs
Silver Spirits
Guinea Fowls
Dakar Academy Staff
Embassy Patriots
Dohomey Dodgers
Korea / Japan #1
Social League (SL)
Senegal Tamba
Diongama Thiof
Korea / Japan #2
Gambia PCV
Rim Rear Guard
Camel Crew
Dakar Academy Pirates
Mali PCV
Rim Frontal Attack
Senegal #2
Baobob Bashers
Bamako Blitz
Guinea PCV
Senegal Kaolack
Ball Fetishers
French School
Both Leagues will play a round-robin of three (3) games on Saturday to determine seedings. Home team during round-robin play is the second team listed. Double-Elimination play will begin on Sunday. Home team for Double-Elimination play will be the highest seed for games CL 1-4, and SL 1-8. A flip of the coin will determine home team for those games with teams having equal losses. The schedule for Sunday's games will be posted at the Marine House on Saturday night.
All games are scheduled 70 minutes apart. No new inning will begin after 55 minutes. The scorekeeper will keep the official time. No extra innings will be played on Saturday, therefore tie games are possible. During all games except the championship games, the batter will have a 1-1 count when coming up to the bat.
All teams should be ready to play at the scheduled start time. Teams MUST have at least nine (9) roster players to begin a game, or to be eligible to be awarded a forfeit. A forfeit will be declared ten (10) minutes after the scheduled starting time. Any delay is counted a splaying time, and will have no bearing on the start of the following game.
Each team will provide two (2) umpires and one (1) scorekeeper for games as indicated on the umpire schedule. Ball-strike indicators, and score sheets/pencils will be provided. In the event scheduled umpires and/or scorekeeper fails to show, each team will provide an umpire, either a spectator or a player, and the home team will keep the official score. Games will not be delayed because of no-show umpires!! Balls, rules, instructions and schedules will be provided at each field.
Scorekeepers will ensure that team names, game time, and the field are on each official score sheet. Runs scored will be verified after each half-inning. After each game, scorekeepers will turn score sheets in to the cashier at ISD or Ebbetts Fields.
Note: Teams and spectators can only access the French Field via the shuttle buses. Please ensure your team arrives in front of the American Club at least one (1) hour before your scheduled game time for transportation to the French Field. See the shuttle schedule. All persons riding the shuttle MUST fill out the clipboard upon boarding the shuttle. Only beverages will be sold at the French and Suffolk fields.
There will be food and beverages available at both Ebbets and ISD fields.
posted by Mike | 3:55 PM
|
0 comments
