My Fairytale Part 1: Journey to the Journey

I landed in Guinea at 11pm.  Getting off the plane, the heat immediately hit me like a warm wet blanket.  I inhaled, coughed, and then smiled.  Oh how good it felt to be back :-)  Within several minutes, I was already sweating like a prostitute in church, and I really didn't care….every second felt amazing.

I paid a guy less than a dollar (I love that for so little you can be helped anywhere you go…I know this is a result of poverty, but it doesn't make it any less nice) to help me corral my 5 bags of gifts and clothes to the front where my host brother picked me up.  We drove through the night of Conakry where smells of grilled meat (affectionately called street meat), burning trash, and that unquestionably African odor (if you've ever been to any country in Africa, at least in my opinion, there is this really distinct odor that comes from everyone and it’s just decidedly African…almost the same as maybe the smell of curry in India) greeted me.

Welcome back, Wi.

I went to visit my host family in Conakry, rushed back over to the Peace Corps house, spent the night, and woke up at the crack of dawn for a bush taxi back to Labé.  Upon reaching Labé, I was showered with hugs and “Ke Toli” or “Welcome” in Fulani. 

Vacation is great.  But what is even more awesome is coming back to love :-)

The next 2 days I spent rushing around town and getting my affairs in order. I had the opportunity to teach one entrepreneurship class before I left, just to stay in touch with my other love :-)

Me and Abe's entrepreneurship class at a local university

I spent an entire day figuring out exchange rates.  $1US=705,000GF (Guinean Franc), $10US = 5,000CFA (West African Franc, used in Senegal and several other countries), 160Delasi (Gambia) = 10,000CFA, $2US = 1 Euro.

Ridiculous.

At 7am the next morning sitting at the car park waiting for my car to Manda (the first stop in Senegal on your way to Dakar), drinking coffee, watching a cow eat a plastic bag in front of me….I finally took a minute to reflect on what the heck was going on.  I just took a 30 hour flight from America, spent 4 days in country, and now, armed with 5 different currencies, and I am waiting for a car to take me on a 2 day cross border journey to catch a flight to Rome, Italy.

What.  Tha. Crap. Lol.  Hahaha.  Let the games begin.

The car was delayed by 3 hours waiting on a tanty (the generic name given to any older African woman—derivative of ‘aunt’) to get money from her son to make the voyage.  But by 11am, we were on our way.  I was given the privileged seat in the front (American status gets you the goods here), next to an older Guinean man and the driver.  Yes.  3 people in the front seat.  Stay tuned for my post about driving in West Africa.  It’s unreal.

I've gotten used to it, so it was a pleasant drive.  My neighbor was a farmer from Guinea who had land in Senegal.  He decided to make me his daughter for the trip.  I was to now call him Tonton (uncle in French). 

At every stop, he bought me food :-)  Gosh, I love Africa.

We were moving along smoothly, making great time considering we left 4 hours late. Until about 2 hours from the border……

A truck full of dry fish (Of all things…really?  The stench wah not easy oh…lol…Liberian English) had completely fallen through the only bridge out.  The only way to get to the other side involved a difficult maneuver down an extremely steep hill, through a small river, and up another very steep hill.  There were about 15 cars ahead of us and several mini buses. 

I started to lose hope that I would get to Senegal in time for my flight.

While the men worked through dusk, well into the night, praying for each car to make it up a slippery hill, trying every means of locomotion….I chatted it up with locals and prayed that I would be in Dakar for that flight. 

At midnight, hungry, hella-tired, and cranky…our car made it up the hill.  Amen.  We were on our way again.

We made it to the border around 2am.  We were stopped 3 times by border control.  Everyone kept asking me if I had a lot of money in my bag.  Apparently, it is also against the law to leave Guinea with more than 200,000GF (about $30US) because inflation is so high and it costs so much to print money they don’t want to lose circulation of their bills. 

Funny story, everyone was so worried about this law and getting stopped at the border.  Each Guinean citizen was harassed in regards to their papers.  In order to leave the country, apparently you must have an “ordre du mission” or an official document stating your reasons for leaving.  This really is a ploy to get a bribe, but it’s incredibly degrading.  So when it was my turn, I pulled out my American passport.  The woman officer, who had thoroughly harassed every Guinean, looked through it slowly.  The room was silent.  The male officer asked, “What say you?”  The woman smiled and responded, “She’s American.  She is like the birds, she can do whatever she want.”  Everyone burst out laughing.

Haha.  Though in some parts of the world it can get you killed, here American status is a ticket.  The situation made me think how much of a privilege it is to be American.  To get a visa to leave this country as a Guinean to anywhere in the developed world is like touching the Jesus.  Many of my friends are jealous of the fact that for a small fee, no questions asked, I can go anywhere in the world I want.  Yet, in America, very few of us take advantage of that privilege.  What is even sadder is that many of us can’t take advantage of this incredible opportunity because of our financial situations.  So while poverty restricts Guineans from seeing more than their borders because the embassy of a 1^st world country will ask more questions to a poor farmer wanting to leave his country for something better, poverty also restricts many Americans from taking advantage of the benefit of an American passport, which can be used to explore the incredible curiosities that exist in this world.

That doesn't excuse those of us that can afford it, but choose to stay behind our desks and picket fences.  You, as an American, have the ability to touch the world.  Use it.  Travel expands our worldview, causes us to be less self-centered, opens us to the great possibilities of generosity, and gives us glimpses of our role in global change. 

Go :-)

I spent the night at the border in the front seat of the taxi with a screaming baby to my back, mosquitoes at my legs, and choking heat all around.  Sleep is a gift.

Waiting for breakfast at the
Guinea/Senegal Border just
before dawn

Reaching Manda, Tonton arranged my car to Dakar, gave me cell phone cards for Senegal with credit, and bought me breakfast.  He waited with me until my car was full and ready to leave.   He gave me his farewell, prayed for me, and proceeded to his own car to his farm.

One thing I love about travel is being privy to the little gifts of people’s goodness.  The only thing is you must be proactive in looking for them :-)  I didn’t want to conversate with Tonton at first— I wanted to put my head phones on and zone out—but I decided to oblige his conversation.  

When you give you shall receive.  It’s a principle :-)

Monkeys!!

Senegal is the most boring country I've ever driven through, except for the occasional packs of monkeys!  Nothing but flat dry land for 8 hours straight to the capital. The roads were smooth, but it made me so grateful to be blessed with the beauty of Guinea, despite how horrible our roads are…..that’s another post.

I finally reached Senegal at around 9pm.  Surprisingly enough, no one spoke French, even though Senegal is a French speaking country.  The main language here is Wolof, and so I was out of luck.

Creativity :-).  

With a lot of grunts, pointing, horrendous traffic, and finally an older man who spoke French, I made it to the Senegal Peace Corps house around 10pm where I was warmly greeted by my friend, Gambian volunteer John, who would accompany me on the next leg of the trip…ITALY.  I had just enough time to eat, hit the shower, change, and grab a taxi to the airport.

More awaited :-)