Ndanka, ndanka in Wolof really means slowly, slowly. It comes from the Wolof proverb Ndanka ndanka mooy japa golo chi nyaay, meaning “slowly slowly (it) catches the monkey in the bush” which I figure means no hurry in Africa. Don’t know what the monkey in the bush is all about, but ndanka ndanka has become our mantra since these words came out of Bintou’s mouth.
Our new found friend and maid Bintou quickly made us realize that, in the aftermath of those incredible, exciting, rejuvenating and restful 8 weeks wallowing in the splendors of Canada (clean air, normal weather, cemented roads), we had perhaps kind of lost the African momentum of doing things and looking at life. Perhaps we should have left that punctual, frenzied, and let’s face it, anal retentive ethos that characterizes how most of us operate in the ‘first’ and ‘developed’ world on that plane two weeks ago as we disembarked and made our grand entry into The Gambia.
Our journey to Banjul from Canada was expectedly long and unexpectedly uneventful. Despite the 28 travel hours, we arrived tired but not totally exhausted. Either we are getting used to these long hauls at 30000’ in the air, or we have both simply become creative and adept at circumventing the necessary torturous evils that are an integral part of ‘economy’ travel; ei: child in the back punching the back of your seat, legs deprived of space causing a complete halt in blood circulation... resulting in numbing up and subsequently amputation of said legs, feet uncomfortably swelling up due to who knows what, and let us not forget, my favorite of all economy class irritants, having to cradle in your lap that uncouth despicable sleaze bag’s head, you know the one who sits in the seat in front of you and puts his seat back the instant the seat-belt sign goes off. One day I’ll write a Economy Travel for Dummies book.
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| Our friend Kitt making sure we have the essentials the night before our departure. |
Our welcome on the night of our arrival in Banjul went as smooth as can be. As a matter of fact, it could very well qualify as one of the better welcoming’s we have experienced since undertaking this global nomadic lifestyle. Everything from the VIP van waiting for us on the tarmac as we came down the plane ramp, the embassy expeditor welcoming us and getting us through the chaos of a typical African airport, the welcoming at the arrival lounge by the Board chair, the ride from the airport to our new home in the ambassador’s car (now there’s a car where one feels safe), and finally opening the door to our newly freshly painted, sparkling clean new home, and finding water, toilet paper, and a huge, comfortable king size bed made up with brand spanking new bed sheets. What a classy first act! I make it a point of mentioning the latter three points (water, toilet paper, clean bed), because these are the three top essentials that were not there when we first arrived in Conakry two years ago. I guess, our arrival this time around was memorable for the things that were lacking two years ago (you may have to reread this over again for it to make any sense...). In any case, thanks to the people who welcomed us so splendidly into our new home and to our new community, this most favorable first impression has catapulted us into this next chapter of our lives.
So, that was our re-entry in Africa...a very different Africa than we had gotten used to these past two years. As I write this first entry blog, Madeleine has just learned that this morning (and all mornings of every last Saturday of the month), has been decreed by the President national clean up morning for the whole country. So that people will stay home and clean up, a curfew is in effect. That would explain the lack of traffic noise this morning. Other than the occasional heehaw of the neighbor’s donkey, its been a really quiet morning.
Boy, monthly national clean up mornings would have really gone a long ways in Conakry.
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