| (2003-11-11) Bags of Milk They eat and drink things out of bags in The Gambia. I don’t blame them: it’s economic, convenient, easy to carry and it’s inexpensive. I’ve taken up eating/drinking yogurt out of bags for a midday snack. For D6 (about 20 cents Canadian), I get a small bag of sweet, fresh yogurt (unpasturized milk: I’m going to have a digestive system made of steel by the time I leave here). I bite off a corner of the plastic and suck. It’s wonderful. Fresh milk products are rare. The supermarket shelves are stocked with imported UHT milk (the kind you don’t have to refrigerate and lasts for years). I don’t buy it (okay, so I bought it once last week, and when I took a sip, I immediately spat it out and poured the rest down the drain. It’s the worst milk in the whole world). But this yogurt is the best thing EVER after going nearly eleven weeks without any milk products other than 100g of Edam (read: the cheapest in the store) cheese every week. They have oil, vinegar, baobab and wonjo juice, water, flour, sugar, rice, dates, cashews... everything comes in little bags (like miniature North American freezer bags), no labels, nothing’s done in a factory... it’s just raw goods. Last night I took a bush taxi a local community center where, on Monday nights, they play an English language movie. I was speaking to the driver, as I always do, and it turns out that he’s from a Fula tribe. There are four tribes in The Gambia. Mandinka, Wolof, Fula, and Joba. Mandinka, Wolof and Fula are the most popular ones, and my Gambian name (Alimatou Bah) is a Fula name. Moudo Bah, the driver, has the same surname as me. He offered to teach me some words in Fula, he played some Fula music, and then he gave me his phone number and wouldn’t let me pay the D4 for the trip. These people, as poor as they are, are so goshdarned generous, it breaks my heart. Since the beginning of Ramadan, I’ve gotten three free rides in Bush Taxis. On the other hand, I’ve also caused a big brawl in the streets involving three men who were fighting over me. I’m told that tempers flare during the month of Ramadan because people are so hungry (blood-sugar levels, and all of that). And it’s true... I’ve seen more fights in the past two weeks than I’ve seen in the entire time being here. It’s usually an extraordinarily peaceful country, no one gets mad, everyone’s patient… but as soon as one man is talking to me and other men want to talk to me too- watch out. They pushed a guy off his bicycle, and then there was screaming and more shoving. I couldn’t believe it. Stupid white skin getting me into trouble. I never would have imagined it. |