Many (but not all) Gambian men think that I’m not worthy of a greeting when they try to talk to me on the streets. They can just blurt out, “From which country?” and they deserve a reply.
Many (but not all) Gambian men who drive taxis think that I don’t know where I want to go. That if they follow me in their vehicle at 5km/h as I walk past them, and that if they keep honking at me and calling out the name of a particular place, I will end up changing my mind.
Many (but not all) Gambian men have strange beliefs, like that.
Many of these interactions have occurred at Traffic Lights, my local major intersection. It’s a busy place, where despite the presence of the traffic lights, crossing the road is a difficult task. You see, many Gambian drivers are not used to traffic lights, and just because they are there, it doesn’t mean that they are necessarily obeyed. At this intersection, your internal life-or-death computation becomes, “Does this vehicle look like it will follow rules?” And predicting human behaviour, of course, adds a layer of complexity to the task of dodging oncoming vehicles. Fortunately, they have added in an extra level of safety in the form of a human traffic controller who works alongside the lights. It seems rather inefficient to have policemen and policewomen there as well, but I am relieved that this occurs. It’s a pity, though, that the police don’t also protect you against overly entitled local men.
I was told that it used to be worse. The intersection is called Traffic Lights because they feature the very first set of traffic lights that ever existed in the Gambia, installed only in the year 2000. At the time, this had to occur alongside a sensitisation project, to get drivers used to the idea of stopping at red lights. I realise that it’s something that I take so much for granted in the developed world that when I first heard about the sensitisation, I had to stop and really process it in my mind as a brand new idea. I have now seen at least 2 other sets of traffic lights in the country, so hopefully they will just be an everyday sight for most people soon. There are a few other major intersections that have roundabouts (called turntables in Gambian English) to regulate traffic. They are also quite chaotic places. I haven’t found any articles that have concluded whether one is safer than the other. The articles that I have found, though, indicate that in the Gambia, almost half of the road traffic accidents involve pedestrians. And out of these pedestrians, about a third are schoolchildren. And no, school crossings are not a thing here in the Gambia. I’m trying to remember if I have seen any zebra crossings at all in the country. Not that any driver would respect one if it were drawn across the road.
But this is not to say that cars are the kings of the road in the Gambia, either. Oh no. In my mind, that title would have to go to the humble goat. I come from a country where you have to watch out for unpredictable kangaroos jumping out at you while you speed down the highway. I can confirm that goats are equally erratic and suicidal. I’ve been on a number of longer road trips recently, and there have been many near misses where the goat decides on precisely the wrong direction to run. The thing that makes goats perhaps even more challenging than kangaroos is that they often come in herds and create an entire obstacle course. And here is a gratuitous picture of a goat herd in one of the villages I visited recently. It made me giggle internally to see them gather for a mass recline-and-bleat party at this local patch of dirt.
Another ubiquitous sight in the Gambia is the breakfast sandwich. I didn’t feel that I could go on blogging any further without mentioning this cultural phenomenon. I mean no, it’s not unique that the Gambians eat sandwiches for breakfast (and for those of you who come from the world of sliced bread, the Gambian sandwich uses long breadsticks), and I’m not sure if I have the skills to convey to you just what it is that is special or different about the Gambian habit. Maybe it’s the fact that so many people are occupational breakfast sandwich sellers who do not sell anything else? Maybe it’s that during breakfast time (which extends until about 1pm), it is sold pretty much everywhere? All of the pop up sandwich stands come alive, but it can also be found at convenience stores and takeaway restaurants. Maybe it’s the daily sight of everyone in the morning carrying 1 or 2 long breadsticks with newspaper wrapped only around the middle part? Maybe it’s the format? Every stand pretty much gives you one choice of filling, which is usually scooped out of a giant bowl/tub thing and served warm. Some of the more common fillings that I’ve seen so far include sardines, omelette, ndambeh (a dish of spiced kidney beans cooked with or without onions), noodles, chicken drumsticks and cow liver.
As for the bread in these sandwiches? As I keep saying, the Gambians are big carb eaters. I had already dedicated much of a previous post to rice. And so now I will discuss bread. There are many types of bread available at supermarkets, but when it comes to what you can get at one of the local sandwich vendors, there are basically two types: tapalapa and senfu. Both are long baguette-like breads, and when you are brand new in the country, it can take a bit of time to tell them apart. Essentially, senfu is made from slightly more refined flour, and is softer and more airy. One of the pictures below is of a half senfu that I was given by the campus cafeteria to accompany the salad that I had ordered, because it was unfathomable to them that I would only want a salad without carbs.
Tapalapa, on the other hand, is the stuff of legends. If somebody talks to you about tapalapa, you know that they’ve been to the Gambia or Senegal. It is heavier, made with less processed flour, often with chickpea flour mixed in. And extra protein in the form of ants. That bit isn’t intentional, but most of the time you’ll find some dead ants baked into the bread, as you can see in my picture below. I usually can’t even finish a quarter of a tapalapa, and so I choose to eat the section that contains visible dead ants, because I try to go for the full tapalapa experience. The other thing about the tapalapa is that they become stale at an astronomical rate. It’s probably the reason that sandwich vendors only work in the mornings. I’ve had one on my plate before that basically became unable to be tackled with incisor teeth after about 20 minutes. There’s a rumour that 2-day-old tapalapa can be used as a bludgeon-type weapon. I’ve also included a couple of breakfast sandwich photos. One is an omelette sandwich with senfu bread. The other is a sardine sandwich inside tapalapa. I just wanted to make it clear that the plate that this particular tapalapa sandwich is sitting on is one of those huge round serving trays. That’s how big each tapalapa sandwich is. Portion size control seems to be a bit of a public health issue here.
irrelephant conflounder 