This is my first post from Gambia! Think of Africa in your heads and its exactly like that. Cows and goats causing traffic jams, sand and dust tracks and some of the poorest communities I have ever seen. When you’re actually looking down the main high street in the small village where I am based it just seems surreal and an eye opening experience is already and understatement.
Our journey to Banjul took a surprising turn of events when the pilot told us we were going to have to turn around and land briefly in Las Palmas due to fuel issues. If there is one thing that I have already learnt in the planning and in the first few days of this trip is NEVER fly with Thomas Cook. Not only was organisation not their strong point but we were slightly disappointed to hear that the pilots name was, in fact, Steve and not Tom.
The airport in Banjul was swamped with tourists and the heat was almost unbearable. It was reassuring to see that the government had introduced Ebola health checks for everyone entering the airport as it was a major concern for me, Pheeb and Soph throughout the planning stages of the trip.
From the airport we were met by Bouba who is the go to man if we have any problems and got a 40 minute taxi drive to the village of Gunjur. All 3 of us were pretty nervous at this point and I was first to be dropped off at the door of my host’s compound. I was introduced to all the family which was way into double figures so there were a lot of new faces and names to try and get to grips with. After having a local gambian style meal we sat around chatting with other friends and relatives joining us while the heads of the household prepared yet another meal. I am already regretting saying that I like oranges as now I seem to get given in excess of 5 oranges as a side dish to every meal – for some reason fish and orange is not a winning combination.
The first night was actually okay. The sound of the crickets along with god knows what other bugs scurrying over my mosquito net and the mosque prayer calls becomes quite soothing after a while. I was woken up to shouts of “Omar, Omar”, which now seems to be my gambian name. I had overslept so had to rush to the meeting with the elders in the village in order to get formally welcomed into the community.
Managing to make contact to home has made the whole thing a lot better! All in all it has been without doubt a scary but great start to the trip and I cant wait for the rest of the week.
There and Back - Duncan's Gap Year 2015 