Happy Holidays Everyone! This might be my only blog from the States but I thought my journey back was worth a post.
I planned on leaving Bambey by 8am Monday because I had things to do in the Peace Corps office in the afternoon. My host mom helped me look for a donkey cart to take my baggage to the road so I could flag down a bus but we couldn’t find one. Eventually I walked to the market and got the first cart I saw. At a pace slower than I walk we headed back to my house. When we got there my host dad was starting his car and said to me in English, “I’m going to Dakar too put your stuff in the car.” When I told my host mom what was going on she was PISSED - not at me but because my host dad had just gotten back from Dakar the day before and hadn’t told her he was going back. I felt bad kind of picking sides but how can you turn down a free ride that will take half the time as the bus? We had to take a detour out of Bambey because the teachers and students had barricaded the national highway because the teachers were owed 6 months of paychecks.
We made it to Dakar in only a few hours and I was at the office on time. After the office I went back to the regional house which is bursting at the seams of volunteers leaving and volunteers waiting to pick up friends or family. There was another volunteer on my flight so we got take out Chinese food and just hung around repacking our bags.
I like getting to the airport early (not a surprise if you know my parents) so I convinced the other volunteer to leave the regional house at 4am. We went to the airport with two other volunteers going to Tanzania and found a cab pretty quickly. When we made it to the highway the cab pulled over and said that we had to get out because his car was broken but he would find us another car. We switched cars and made our way to the airport. At the airport we had our bags weighted (mine were under which was a good surprise) and then completely searched through. After most of the things were taken out of my bag they had to be put back in – which took time considering the number of presents I’m bringing home!
After checking in the other volunteer and I went through customs and security. Then we bought a juice and went to the special Delta gate which had… ANOTHER SECURITY CHECK! At this point we’d been through several and it was just humorous. Our carry-ons were searched, we had to drink our juices, we were pat down, then we were sent to another waiting room. Around 6:50am we boarded our flight and that’s where I am now. There’s a second Senegal PCV on this flight and one from The Gambia too. I’m currently about 4 and a half hours from JFK. Hopefully I won’t have any more blog-worthy adventures and will make it safely and quickly to Chicago.
I’m back! This time I’m blogging from JFK while waiting for my flight to Chicago. The flight before mine was cancelled because of bad weather but hopefully mine will get out alright. So a few things worth noting:
1. To get between terminals at JFK you have to walk outside. SURPRISE! I’m in flipflops and a shirt… and still defrosting but it was refreshing!
2. I look crazy because I’m so smiley and I’m thanking everyone.
3. Turkey sandwiches are amazing
4. Blue Moon’s are also amazing
Merry Christmas!
KO
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
A Personal Odyssey
Tuesday afternoon Alyssa and I had our last meal in Accra (Chinese food) and set off for the airport. I had confirmed over the phone that our flight was leaving at 8:35pm (contrary to the official flight time of 10:25pm) and that check-in would open at 5:30 or 6 (depending on who you asked). We got to the airport around 4pm and went to the ticket office to triple check the flight was leaving. "The Dakar flight? It's cancelled," explained the ticket guy but before I flew into a storm of rage he added, "just joking!" Yeah. Really funny. We then waited for an hour and a half for the check-in counter to open. Before checking-in we had to have our bags "checked" by customs... the customs woman asked me what I had in my bag (she didn't open it) and she asked Alyssa if she was traveling with me and then let us move on to check-in. We were waiting in line to check-in and twice the agent called me forward to the counter and then reprimanded me for not letting her finish with the people in front of me. Finally it actually was my turn and we checked in and moved on to the second customs area.
Just a fun fact, the entire Accra airport is filled with posters about drug trafficking, for example: parents, watch your children's bags and toys - traffickers will stuff drugs in them; are you trafficking drugs? You WILL be caught and sentenced to 10 years hard labor.
After customs we picked up some chocolate for our host families and waited to go through security (which we couldn't do until our flight was called). Finally a woman walked by and mumbled something about the Virgin Nigeria flight and we ran after her and got through security. While waiting to have our tickets and passports checked for the 4th time we heard an announcement for the Virgin Nigeria flight to Banjul (capital of The Gambia) and Dakar... when asked what city would be first - because this was the first time we'd heard ANYTHING about The Gambia - we were assured Dakar was the first stop. Once the Brazil v. North Korea World Cup match was over we boarded the flight.
Not too surprisingly there was someone in my seat and when I tried to explain I was told that as a "new comer" (the flight left from Nigeria) I had to go find another seat regardless of whether it was my assigned seat or not. We ended up sitting one row behind our original row. I had my seatbelt on and made the mistake of thinking that there could be no more surprises... SURPRISE! THE GAMBIA WAS THE FIRST STOP! Alyssa and I were apparently the only people who didn't know we were taking a detour to a 3rd country (our tickets said nothing about Banjul, our flight was never on the departures board, and when we asked we were told Dakar was the first stop).
5 hours and 1 country later, we finally landed in Dakar. I never thought I would be that happy to be back in Senegal but I was ecstatic. I loved when we got in an argument over cab price, when everyone was yelling at me - it was amazing. Around 2am we made it to the regional house which was pretty empty and passed out.
The next morning I was in a car to Bambey by 10am. After being stuck in traffic for an hour we got a flat tire and had to wait for it to be changed. Normally that would have driven me crazy but I was just so happy to be back I was fine. When I got out of the car in Bambey someone who knew me (I didn't know them) helped me get a good price for a donkey cart to take me to my house ("she's not a foreigner! she's Senegalese!), and the post office was still open 30 minutes after they normally close. I had 6 packages (from my parents and Sarah Lowry THANK YOU!!) and rolled into my house like Santa on Christmas. I kid you not neighborhood kids appeared and helped carry everything up to my room. As I got in lunch was being set down. It's as if Senegal wanted to prove that it wasn't so bad after all and, even if things never work in Ghana, they sometimes work here.
I have a fair amount of work to catch up on now and I'm trying to keep busy. Things with the camp should become definite over the next two days. I hope everyone watches the US game tomorrow!
KO
Just a fun fact, the entire Accra airport is filled with posters about drug trafficking, for example: parents, watch your children's bags and toys - traffickers will stuff drugs in them; are you trafficking drugs? You WILL be caught and sentenced to 10 years hard labor.
After customs we picked up some chocolate for our host families and waited to go through security (which we couldn't do until our flight was called). Finally a woman walked by and mumbled something about the Virgin Nigeria flight and we ran after her and got through security. While waiting to have our tickets and passports checked for the 4th time we heard an announcement for the Virgin Nigeria flight to Banjul (capital of The Gambia) and Dakar... when asked what city would be first - because this was the first time we'd heard ANYTHING about The Gambia - we were assured Dakar was the first stop. Once the Brazil v. North Korea World Cup match was over we boarded the flight.
Not too surprisingly there was someone in my seat and when I tried to explain I was told that as a "new comer" (the flight left from Nigeria) I had to go find another seat regardless of whether it was my assigned seat or not. We ended up sitting one row behind our original row. I had my seatbelt on and made the mistake of thinking that there could be no more surprises... SURPRISE! THE GAMBIA WAS THE FIRST STOP! Alyssa and I were apparently the only people who didn't know we were taking a detour to a 3rd country (our tickets said nothing about Banjul, our flight was never on the departures board, and when we asked we were told Dakar was the first stop).
5 hours and 1 country later, we finally landed in Dakar. I never thought I would be that happy to be back in Senegal but I was ecstatic. I loved when we got in an argument over cab price, when everyone was yelling at me - it was amazing. Around 2am we made it to the regional house which was pretty empty and passed out.
The next morning I was in a car to Bambey by 10am. After being stuck in traffic for an hour we got a flat tire and had to wait for it to be changed. Normally that would have driven me crazy but I was just so happy to be back I was fine. When I got out of the car in Bambey someone who knew me (I didn't know them) helped me get a good price for a donkey cart to take me to my house ("she's not a foreigner! she's Senegalese!), and the post office was still open 30 minutes after they normally close. I had 6 packages (from my parents and Sarah Lowry THANK YOU!!) and rolled into my house like Santa on Christmas. I kid you not neighborhood kids appeared and helped carry everything up to my room. As I got in lunch was being set down. It's as if Senegal wanted to prove that it wasn't so bad after all and, even if things never work in Ghana, they sometimes work here.
I have a fair amount of work to catch up on now and I'm trying to keep busy. Things with the camp should become definite over the next two days. I hope everyone watches the US game tomorrow!
KO
Friday, December 18, 2009
Getting from one place to another
Traveling in Senegal something I have a feeling I will try many times during my time here to explain but never really succeed at doing it justice. To wax philosophic for a minute, traveling seems to represent so much of Senegal: sticking to traditions, using "Western methods" (with a Senegalese touch),being in no hurry at all, and a little bit of luck or "God wishing" things to happen.
To get to Thies today for Erin's birthday lunch I took an Alham from Bambey. The garage in Bambey is relatively quiet with Alhams mostly going to Dakar and very rarely heading to Diourbel in the other direction. When I got to the garage I walked through the crowds for men around my age asking me where I was going until I got to the back of the Mitsubishi bus everyone was loading into. Finally, when I was in line to get on the bus I told the group of men who looked like they worked there in some connection that I was going to Thies. For the first time I was quoted the right price (usually I pay 200CFA more) and the guy was very nice and quickly ushered me on the bus and directed me to a seat. The insides of Alhams are usually about 7-10 rows of 5 seats across (two benches that seat 2 people with a fold down seat in the middle). The back has seats going sideways that often fit 4 people on each seat but today I was lucky and the sideways seat (give to me) was just for 1 person. Whether there is room or not Senegalese women use their djufunday's (a marker of beauty in Senegal aka large rear-ends) to cram themselves into the seat. Though I have kind of a white-girl-djufunday, I usually end up like Senegalese men do - squashed against the side wall or between two women. Today, however, I had the whole seat to myself and there was even a window. The buses sometimes even decorated - today's had purple fabric hanging from the ceiling and speakers in the back blasting Senegalese music that, over the engine you could barely make out the drumming.
I was the last one on and we were off, about 35 of us crammed into a bus. On the back of the bus, through the door we all got in, there are a few appretices, or guys who ride on and who are responsible for the passengers. They usually hang off the back, occasionally coming inside if there are seats, but at the beginning of the ride one appretice steps in the car and begins saying "pass! pass!" and each person hands their money to him. If he doesn't know where you're going he asks and then gives you your change. I find this part to be another amazing part of travel: because the bus is so crowded and no aisle exists he just keeps going from person to person, everyone knows when he's getting to them, and everyone passes their money back - no one tries to cheat the system. Bills get handed back to him and change gets handed forward usually without people even turning around.
Another thing about travel that amazes me is how everyone looks. I usually travel looking crappy, cars are hot, you're sitting cramped, and you can only guess at how long it will take - for these reasons I almost always wear capris and a tank top or cotton t-shirt. Everyone else, however, is usually dressed up to the nines. All of the women are in full traditional Senegalese wear with headwraps and make-up. The men are always in full basin bou-bous with the younger men and women in nice Western clothes or Senegalese clothes. Even the kids are dressed up with their hair done and everyone sits patiently just waiting for their stop.
Sometimes an appretice will stick his head in the bus and yell what town we're approaching other times he'll just bang on the side of the car and the driver will pull over to the side of the road to let people off or on without asking. As people get off someone crawls to the top of the car and bags are handed down then handed back up as more people load on. Unlike in the US where people would (or so I believe) try to sit closer to doors as their stop gets closer, everyone stays seated until it's their stop then we all patiently wait while half the bus re-shifts position for one person to get out.
Usually by the time we're getting close to Thies an appretice sticks there head in and asks where I'm getting out (when there's only one white person in the car it's easy to remember where they're going, so I'm guessing). Eventually the car stops (if I'm sitting far in the crowd) or just slows down (like today) and I jump out the back and am on my way.
Traveling back to Bambey from Thies is always a little bit crazier, I like to think because people are tired and just want to get home. No matter, though, everyone (except me) still maintains their appearance and looks great. (Part of this must have to do with the fact it's the "cold" season now - though I don't feel it) The Thies garage is no where near as calm as the Bambey garage with people hassling the entire way to the Bambey section - each route has their own section so it's easy to ignore people until I'm in the right place. This evening when I got on the bus there were about 8 open seats which filled pretty quickly and we were off again. This time, however, I was crammed between two Senegalese women for most of the ride.
About halfway between Thies and Bambey the car stopped and almost everyone got off - those of us going to Bambey were told to stay. Then there was a change of plans and we were all told to get off and get on another bus (this happens regularly). Luckily the second bus was an actual bus (like the kind I take to Dakar) and I got 2 seats to myself. Coming with me to the new bus were a mother and her daughter, a guy in his 20s, and two kids that were going to Bambey for the first time and had no idea what was going on (it was amazing not to be the least-knowledgeable person in the room/bus). While we waited for the second bus to get moving (the appretices of the different buses had to work out who had come over and what they owed them) the mother and guy asked what I was doing and we had a nice conversation in Wolof. When they asked my name and I gave them, like normal, my Senegalese name, the mother even asked my real name (and they both knew Peace Corps so it was great). Finally we were off and I got back to Bambey and home just before dark.
I'm sure when I have to go longer distances it will be miserable and I won't see the beauty in travel that I see now. But, when it's just for small trips and I can amuse myself with the situation. The daydreamer in me even likes to imagine a movie zoom-out from the top of the bus - all of the women with headdresses and weaves and me, the one white person squashed between two djufundays*.
Ba Suba,
KO
*Don't think I'm being rude about djufunday's, Senegalese women pride themselves on them. My hfmom often tells me that if I don't eat more I won't get a djufunday (because here, not having one, is a bad thing).
To get to Thies today for Erin's birthday lunch I took an Alham from Bambey. The garage in Bambey is relatively quiet with Alhams mostly going to Dakar and very rarely heading to Diourbel in the other direction. When I got to the garage I walked through the crowds for men around my age asking me where I was going until I got to the back of the Mitsubishi bus everyone was loading into. Finally, when I was in line to get on the bus I told the group of men who looked like they worked there in some connection that I was going to Thies. For the first time I was quoted the right price (usually I pay 200CFA more) and the guy was very nice and quickly ushered me on the bus and directed me to a seat. The insides of Alhams are usually about 7-10 rows of 5 seats across (two benches that seat 2 people with a fold down seat in the middle). The back has seats going sideways that often fit 4 people on each seat but today I was lucky and the sideways seat (give to me) was just for 1 person. Whether there is room or not Senegalese women use their djufunday's (a marker of beauty in Senegal aka large rear-ends) to cram themselves into the seat. Though I have kind of a white-girl-djufunday, I usually end up like Senegalese men do - squashed against the side wall or between two women. Today, however, I had the whole seat to myself and there was even a window. The buses sometimes even decorated - today's had purple fabric hanging from the ceiling and speakers in the back blasting Senegalese music that, over the engine you could barely make out the drumming.
I was the last one on and we were off, about 35 of us crammed into a bus. On the back of the bus, through the door we all got in, there are a few appretices, or guys who ride on and who are responsible for the passengers. They usually hang off the back, occasionally coming inside if there are seats, but at the beginning of the ride one appretice steps in the car and begins saying "pass! pass!" and each person hands their money to him. If he doesn't know where you're going he asks and then gives you your change. I find this part to be another amazing part of travel: because the bus is so crowded and no aisle exists he just keeps going from person to person, everyone knows when he's getting to them, and everyone passes their money back - no one tries to cheat the system. Bills get handed back to him and change gets handed forward usually without people even turning around.
Another thing about travel that amazes me is how everyone looks. I usually travel looking crappy, cars are hot, you're sitting cramped, and you can only guess at how long it will take - for these reasons I almost always wear capris and a tank top or cotton t-shirt. Everyone else, however, is usually dressed up to the nines. All of the women are in full traditional Senegalese wear with headwraps and make-up. The men are always in full basin bou-bous with the younger men and women in nice Western clothes or Senegalese clothes. Even the kids are dressed up with their hair done and everyone sits patiently just waiting for their stop.
Sometimes an appretice will stick his head in the bus and yell what town we're approaching other times he'll just bang on the side of the car and the driver will pull over to the side of the road to let people off or on without asking. As people get off someone crawls to the top of the car and bags are handed down then handed back up as more people load on. Unlike in the US where people would (or so I believe) try to sit closer to doors as their stop gets closer, everyone stays seated until it's their stop then we all patiently wait while half the bus re-shifts position for one person to get out.
Usually by the time we're getting close to Thies an appretice sticks there head in and asks where I'm getting out (when there's only one white person in the car it's easy to remember where they're going, so I'm guessing). Eventually the car stops (if I'm sitting far in the crowd) or just slows down (like today) and I jump out the back and am on my way.
Traveling back to Bambey from Thies is always a little bit crazier, I like to think because people are tired and just want to get home. No matter, though, everyone (except me) still maintains their appearance and looks great. (Part of this must have to do with the fact it's the "cold" season now - though I don't feel it) The Thies garage is no where near as calm as the Bambey garage with people hassling the entire way to the Bambey section - each route has their own section so it's easy to ignore people until I'm in the right place. This evening when I got on the bus there were about 8 open seats which filled pretty quickly and we were off again. This time, however, I was crammed between two Senegalese women for most of the ride.
About halfway between Thies and Bambey the car stopped and almost everyone got off - those of us going to Bambey were told to stay. Then there was a change of plans and we were all told to get off and get on another bus (this happens regularly). Luckily the second bus was an actual bus (like the kind I take to Dakar) and I got 2 seats to myself. Coming with me to the new bus were a mother and her daughter, a guy in his 20s, and two kids that were going to Bambey for the first time and had no idea what was going on (it was amazing not to be the least-knowledgeable person in the room/bus). While we waited for the second bus to get moving (the appretices of the different buses had to work out who had come over and what they owed them) the mother and guy asked what I was doing and we had a nice conversation in Wolof. When they asked my name and I gave them, like normal, my Senegalese name, the mother even asked my real name (and they both knew Peace Corps so it was great). Finally we were off and I got back to Bambey and home just before dark.
I'm sure when I have to go longer distances it will be miserable and I won't see the beauty in travel that I see now. But, when it's just for small trips and I can amuse myself with the situation. The daydreamer in me even likes to imagine a movie zoom-out from the top of the bus - all of the women with headdresses and weaves and me, the one white person squashed between two djufundays*.
Ba Suba,
KO
*Don't think I'm being rude about djufunday's, Senegalese women pride themselves on them. My hfmom often tells me that if I don't eat more I won't get a djufunday (because here, not having one, is a bad thing).
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