1/11/05
TUESDAY
JANUARY 11, 2005
The first priority of the morning was to go to the bank and get the American Dollars Dave left me exchanged to CFA to pay back Mary. After taking her up on her offer to eat the ice cream I had a bowl for breakfast. I believe the last time I did something like that was when I was ten, but it sure felt good! After my bowl full of chocolate-ice-cream-smothered-with-chocolate-sauce breakfast I left the house to the bank. I exchanged the whole $40, so I would have enough both to pay Mary back and also enough money to get back home, which would cost another $10 for public transportation.
With not wanting to spend any more money than what I had to, I stayed inside for the rest of the day watching more movies. Two movies, in particular, I liked. The first was one Dave recommended, The Bourne Supremacy. “When Jason Bourne is framed for a botched CIA operation he is forced to take up his former life as a trained assassin to survive.” The other starred Marlon Brando and Johnny Depp called Don Juan de Marco, “A psychiatrist must cure a young patient that presents himself as Don Juan, the greatest lover in the world.”.
Again, not wanting that ice cream to go to waste I had another bowl for lunch and continued watching movies. When dinner time came I again had my third, and last, bowl of ice cream. Not since I was ten years old have I had this much ice cream in one day, but it was worth every brain-freeze!
By 8:30 at night Mary came home as I was just starting to watch Moulin Rouge. I had watched all the movies I had cared to watch in her house and was now repeating. She apologized for being late and explained that a shipment from the The Gambia had arrived at the Embassy close to closing and only certain personal could transfer the items into the Embassy itself. Most had already gone home for the day, and so she stayed behind to help out as they called in saying they would be late.
She came into her room, which was next to the TV room, and as I watched Moulin Rouge she asked if I wanted to join her and her embassy friends to go out to dinner. A few things almost prevented me from saying yes. It was already approaching nine and I had to get up very early the next morning to catch transport and my money was running low than going out would almost break me leaving just enough for transport. I held out making a confirmation until she asked from the bottom of the stairs, as she was getting to go out the door, if I was coming. I made the best decision of the day by joining her.
She had called her friends and asked where they wanted to meet. It was only a few blocks away from her house, as we checked on the map, and despite being late we decided to walk it. Turning down this street, that street, backtracking, and, in general, getting lost we couldn’t find the restaurant. Mary stopped at a prominent apartment building, where some Embassy employees lived, and was asking the door-man in French where the restaurant was. As the man was telling her a van pulled up and she recognized her friends. They invited us in and I met Kristine and Princess for the first time. They drove around a block a few times to find a parking space and afterwards we walked into the restaurant, which we had passed earlier without knowing it.
The restaurant was a little bit above my price level and I ordered one of the cheapest meals I could from the menu and still have a good meal. The price on the meal was $10, and I made sure not to know what it was until after I ordered it, for the fun of the surprise. I tried ordering tap water but was quickly corrected by the embassy people into getting the bottled water.
Princess, which was her real name, was visiting Africa for the first time. She had arrived a week earlier to help out in this transfer and was assisted by Kristine, who worked in the American Embassy in Mauritanian and had been flown in to Banjul to help out. Originally they were suppose to have arrived the day before, but because of the ferry in Banjul one truck was stuck on the north side while the van was on the south side. Being stuck in the North Bank, and not seeing any restaurant, they had survived the night on Ritz crackers for their dinner. I was taken aback, as there is plenty of food available on the north side of the ferry.
“What about all the vendors?”
“What vendors?”
“On the street, selling bean sandwiches.”
“I didn’t want to eat those.”
“I eat those all the time!”
“You eat the street food?”
“Every morning. That’s how most Peace Corps volunteers survive if they don’t have a host family cooking for them, or if they are traveling. It’s quite good.”
The conversion then continued to living in Africa and some of the inconveniences. They had stories of not being able to find a toilet, while I had no toilet paper. They couldn’t find a vehicle while my vehicle caught on fire. They had to drink the city water while I drank yellow water in Guinea. Basically for every hardship they encountered I could one-up them. At the end of the meal as I was getting ready to pay for my meal Kristine told me to put my money away. They were paying for my meal.
This was not the end of the story, but only the beginning. During the meal it came out the Kristine and Princesses were heading back tomorrow.
“Back to where?”
“Banjul.”
“Banjul? You’re going to Banjul tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“So am I. Is it possible to get a ride if there’s room. I was going to take public transportation back.”
“Yeah, I think there’s room. Can you be at the Novotel Hotel at nine?”
“If there’s private transportation I can be anywhere at nine!”
I had secured myself not only a free ride, not only private transportation, but a diplomatic ride back from Dakar to Banjul! Plus they paid for my dinner. Free meal and transport, this was my day! On the way back from the restaurant I was almost kicking myself for thinking of declining the offer to go out to dinner. I almost passed up a diplomatic ride back home!
JANUARY 11, 2005
The first priority of the morning was to go to the bank and get the American Dollars Dave left me exchanged to CFA to pay back Mary. After taking her up on her offer to eat the ice cream I had a bowl for breakfast. I believe the last time I did something like that was when I was ten, but it sure felt good! After my bowl full of chocolate-ice-cream-smothered-with-chocolate-sauce breakfast I left the house to the bank. I exchanged the whole $40, so I would have enough both to pay Mary back and also enough money to get back home, which would cost another $10 for public transportation.
With not wanting to spend any more money than what I had to, I stayed inside for the rest of the day watching more movies. Two movies, in particular, I liked. The first was one Dave recommended, The Bourne Supremacy. “When Jason Bourne is framed for a botched CIA operation he is forced to take up his former life as a trained assassin to survive.” The other starred Marlon Brando and Johnny Depp called Don Juan de Marco, “A psychiatrist must cure a young patient that presents himself as Don Juan, the greatest lover in the world.”.
Again, not wanting that ice cream to go to waste I had another bowl for lunch and continued watching movies. When dinner time came I again had my third, and last, bowl of ice cream. Not since I was ten years old have I had this much ice cream in one day, but it was worth every brain-freeze!
By 8:30 at night Mary came home as I was just starting to watch Moulin Rouge. I had watched all the movies I had cared to watch in her house and was now repeating. She apologized for being late and explained that a shipment from the The Gambia had arrived at the Embassy close to closing and only certain personal could transfer the items into the Embassy itself. Most had already gone home for the day, and so she stayed behind to help out as they called in saying they would be late.
She came into her room, which was next to the TV room, and as I watched Moulin Rouge she asked if I wanted to join her and her embassy friends to go out to dinner. A few things almost prevented me from saying yes. It was already approaching nine and I had to get up very early the next morning to catch transport and my money was running low than going out would almost break me leaving just enough for transport. I held out making a confirmation until she asked from the bottom of the stairs, as she was getting to go out the door, if I was coming. I made the best decision of the day by joining her.
She had called her friends and asked where they wanted to meet. It was only a few blocks away from her house, as we checked on the map, and despite being late we decided to walk it. Turning down this street, that street, backtracking, and, in general, getting lost we couldn’t find the restaurant. Mary stopped at a prominent apartment building, where some Embassy employees lived, and was asking the door-man in French where the restaurant was. As the man was telling her a van pulled up and she recognized her friends. They invited us in and I met Kristine and Princess for the first time. They drove around a block a few times to find a parking space and afterwards we walked into the restaurant, which we had passed earlier without knowing it.
The restaurant was a little bit above my price level and I ordered one of the cheapest meals I could from the menu and still have a good meal. The price on the meal was $10, and I made sure not to know what it was until after I ordered it, for the fun of the surprise. I tried ordering tap water but was quickly corrected by the embassy people into getting the bottled water.
Princess, which was her real name, was visiting Africa for the first time. She had arrived a week earlier to help out in this transfer and was assisted by Kristine, who worked in the American Embassy in Mauritanian and had been flown in to Banjul to help out. Originally they were suppose to have arrived the day before, but because of the ferry in Banjul one truck was stuck on the north side while the van was on the south side. Being stuck in the North Bank, and not seeing any restaurant, they had survived the night on Ritz crackers for their dinner. I was taken aback, as there is plenty of food available on the north side of the ferry.
“What about all the vendors?”
“What vendors?”
“On the street, selling bean sandwiches.”
“I didn’t want to eat those.”
“I eat those all the time!”
“You eat the street food?”
“Every morning. That’s how most Peace Corps volunteers survive if they don’t have a host family cooking for them, or if they are traveling. It’s quite good.”
The conversion then continued to living in Africa and some of the inconveniences. They had stories of not being able to find a toilet, while I had no toilet paper. They couldn’t find a vehicle while my vehicle caught on fire. They had to drink the city water while I drank yellow water in Guinea. Basically for every hardship they encountered I could one-up them. At the end of the meal as I was getting ready to pay for my meal Kristine told me to put my money away. They were paying for my meal.
This was not the end of the story, but only the beginning. During the meal it came out the Kristine and Princesses were heading back tomorrow.
“Back to where?”
“Banjul.”
“Banjul? You’re going to Banjul tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“So am I. Is it possible to get a ride if there’s room. I was going to take public transportation back.”
“Yeah, I think there’s room. Can you be at the Novotel Hotel at nine?”
“If there’s private transportation I can be anywhere at nine!”
I had secured myself not only a free ride, not only private transportation, but a diplomatic ride back from Dakar to Banjul! Plus they paid for my dinner. Free meal and transport, this was my day! On the way back from the restaurant I was almost kicking myself for thinking of declining the offer to go out to dinner. I almost passed up a diplomatic ride back home!
posted by Mike | 5:43 PM
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