Happy 2007 to our blog readers.
Marty and I will be taking the train on Wednesday to
Boulogne Sur Mer in northern France. We will cross the English Channel by ferry and eventually land in London where we will visit with Marty's family. On Saturday, we fly from London to Banjul in
The Gambia where we will visit my Gambian family and old Peace Corps stomping grounds. We also plan to visit
Niokolo Koba National Park in
Senegal where, in addition to practicing our French, we hope to see some West African wildlife. Assuming that all goes as planned (never a sure bet when dealing with African travel) we will be back in Toulouse on January 28.
Interestingly, my body seems to be preparing itself for our African sojourn as the intestinal fauna that I picked up in Gambia have been activating themselves the past few days. I picture them bursting out of their cyst forms with gleeful abandon. I guess they're happy to be heading home where, with a little heat and some Gambian food and water, they will be able to wreak havoc on my body once again. (While I am SO excited to be heading to Africa again, I am not naive about the challenges that travel in this part of the world can pose.)
Marty is preoccupied with work so hasn't focused much on the fact that he is heading into the African bush. So far, he mostly seems concerned about getting sick (me too) and is obsessed with the possibility that he may be able to see a cobra in the wild. (He is wildly jealous of my past encounters with cobras.) For a truly surrealistic experience, he plans to work on some calculations while we are there.
While it has taken me a long time to get Marty to Gambia, I am quite confident that, like most people, he will be enchanted by it. I have a French friend here who grew up in Senegal and says that what people miss about Africa is the “esprit de vie.” In Gambia, there is very little in the way of “stuff” or modern entertainment to be distracted by. Life is greatly simplified and focuses on addressing very basic needs and cultivating relationships among people. While frequently challenging, the African “esprit de vie” is a refreshing change for most Westerners and provides insight into how neurotic and isolating our own culture can be. I have often thought that we have much to learn from African villages.
Contrary to impressions that you may get of Africa in the media, I think of it as a very joyful and vibrant place. I look forward to once again waking up to the rhythmic sounds of women pounding grains, walking under the enormous skies of the African bush, taking bucket baths outside under the stars and performing the same greeting rituals over and over each day as people express their irrepressible friendliness and curiosity. I am not, however, looking forward to the unwanted attention from the “bumsters” in the tourist areas along the coast who relentlessly harass visitors. For this reason, we will spend only a couple of days on the coast before heading “upcountry” to the villages.
My biggest concern, however, is that the foreign language cells in my brain, having wallowed (or should that be drowned?) in French for months, will simply explode and die when they encounter their old friend and first love, the Mandinka language. While we could (and did) get shots for yellow fever, typhoid, polio, hepatitis, meningitis and rabies, there appear to be no preventative measures one can take for brain cell overload. I risk coming back a babbling idiot. (Please, no comments on that one.)
My intention is to try to continue the blog, but internet access will obviously be limited. There is also the possibility that my motivation may wane in the African sunshine, so don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from me until we return. Au revoir.