George Town, Gambia, 10 Nov
Same routine a.m. Woke up late. Bad hair day. Found Ibraham waiting after we'd had breakfast. This time I said 'you know what, I'd love to use the bikes, I haven't cycled for ages, it sounds fun'... it was 10.30am by then and quite hot but he obliged. He found a member of staff who could lend me bike. One pedal was missing but I managed anyway !
Gambia is very flat, the highest point in the whole country is 150m high, so cycling was a breezer... it was only tough because of the heat and one pedal being wonky, but otherwise it was a smooth ride (well, minus the pot holes !) to George Town, 3.5 kms away.
I desperately needed a cold drink on arrival though so we found a small bar by the river and I had my usual coke and lemon. Ibraham then suggested I take a look at the slave house as it's part of the local history. McCarthy island was 'useful' to keep slaves as they could only run so far and not escape without having to swim in crocodile infested waters (there were far more back then). I asked how much it was going to cost me, he just said 'no cost, just donation'.
So we left our bikes at the cafe and walked 25m to the ex-slave house. A guy took us down to the basement. The ceiling was low and had been broken (only a few beams remained). He explained that students broke it to let light in otherwise it'd be too claustrophobic. He showed me two small holes (the size of a hand, no more) that were on each side of the room and were the only windows that people had so that air and light could come in. It was also used to drop food so whoever was nearest the window would eat and whoever was the furthest away would never get anything and starve to death.
The conditions were truly appalling. Besides the fact that these people were 'packed like sardines' (average of 50 in a medium size room) they were also chained at their ankles and wrists and had another chain linking the 2 handcuffs so that they could only walk bent down. I simply cannot imagine not being to stretch for 2 whole weeks, or scratch my back if I was bitten by a mosquitoe... that sounds irritating enough but the worst part by far was to know that the basement flooded with every tide (due to a hole in the ground) and this meant that all the time it was high tide people would be sitting knee high in water and have to use it as toilets basically.
They didn't drink much and didn't eat much so they may not have needed to 'process' much but diseases were rampant in such conditions too (cholera and malaria killed many) and I'm sure that vomit was also part of it. With the water being so dirty in so many ways it was impossible to drink it though you'd be thirsty as hell being in a hot basement with no air.
You could only drink safely when the tide would go out, taking all the muck with it and wait for it to go back up. When it flooded again and only then, the water was fresh and clean and everybody could drink before it got soiled again.
The average wait in such appalling conditions was 2 weeks until the ship arrived to take them to America or Europe. Quite a few people did not survive this wait as the conditions were too harsh and it was 'the survival of the fittest'. The slave masters would look at men's weight to see if they'd be good workers, and women's teeth to check if they were healthy. My book talked at length about the slave trade and it is really shocking to think that people could be treated so cruelly for so long. It has been estimated that 15 million black Africans were sold off between the 15th and 19th century and 95% of them never came back. It was cheaper for the slave masters to work them to death and buy new ones than hope they'll reproduce and feed a child for years until it could be used as a slave as well. When they were dead they'd be thrown in the river for crocodiles.
The slave ships were stinking so much that you could 'smell them for miles'... the British, French, Duch, Portuguese (who 'invented' this) all traded in slaves but so did African nations. In fact, most of the slaves were given away by the kings after the slave masters had brought in spirits to please him. Once they had him totally intoxicated, he was happy to sign any papers and give away anybody. Sad, sad state of affairs.
There was ONE potential exit, the 'Freedom Tree' (now a monument in George Town)... if you managed to escape this pit and run to this particular tree (it was about 3 blocks away) and touch it, you'd be marked with an iron prod 'FREE' for life. But getting to the tree was almost impossible with chains. Plus, they'd set the dogs on you or shoot you in the legs if they thought you might reach it. Out of hundreds who tried only a handful 'made it'. It was probably like a game with hound dogs really... but I guess they didn't have much to lose? You either died now or later in appalling conditions. Death must have been a welcome relief to most, I'm sure.
This whole experience had left me quite shaken. Truly one of the darkest chapters in mankind. It seemed unconceivable that people could be treated so inhumanly for so long. I was thinking that if the RSPCA knew of a dog stuck in a flooded basement in its excrements they'd sue the owner and rescue it. And yet, it seemed perfectly acceptable to treat people this way for FOUR centuries.
The slave trade lost its appeal when the industrial revolution happened in the early 19th, as it reduced the need for labour. Slavery was banned by Britain (who was one of the biggest dealers) in 1807. The French eventually followed in 1848. However, the ban on slavery was frowned upon by the Gambian government who, at the time, viewed it as profitable business and resented its end (!!). In 1880 Muslim leaders in the Gambia were still taking slaves and exporting them and it wasn't until a new law came in 1890 that it became illegal - though some found it hard to stick to the law and carried on till 1911. However, this should be put into some historical perspective: slavery was not abolished in nearby Mauritania until 1980 !!!
After this excursion needless to say that I felt that my own problems had shrunk into nothing. Never before I think had I so understood that part of our destiny is not just linked to *where* we are born, but WHEN. And I felt so lucky to be able to stretch and run and cycle back and feel the wind in my hair.... little things became BIG things all over again. I was FREE. There are a million things every day that we take for granted that some people would have given anything for, way back.
Obviously, I had to sign my name in a book before I left, and again, surprise -not-, the last column was 'donation'. So I put 50 delasi and expressed my astonishment at people before me having supposedly paid '500 - 750'... I was like 'and what for exactly? what do you actually DO with ALL this money?' and he said 'it's for the refurbishment of the building'... I looked at him and said 'what refurbishment? the building is falling apart, it's just a heap of rubble'.... he said 'but we have to preserve it for education'... oh, so there was no refurbishment then... so, why did they need money then? anyway, I felt it was best not to argue... it wasn't worth it for £1 but I didn't want him to think I was actually totally stupid.
Interestingly, the very next day a couple from our lodge went over and saw my name in the book. They told me: 'it had to be you, right? Sylvie - from France - 500'... I said 'excuse me ? 500 ?? I don't think so'... he said 'that's what was written, we thought you'd been very generous when we only gave 100'... I said 'I KNEW they'd do that... I should have crossed the space out after my 50 but didn't dare'... I wish I had now. Little so & so... 'Anyway, the tourists were relieved to know I hadn't been overly generous either :)
Ibraham & I then cycled back to the Bird Safari Camp in 20 mins, ate our lunch at exactly 2pm and as I expressed sheer astonishment at the new GMT I was told 'well, you sort of complained yesterday so Binta is now trying to stick to English time'... wow. Progress.
3.30pm was the best time to have a shower as it was warmer then (first thing in the morning it could be seriously cold) and then I was ready to go back on a smaller boat to look for birds in the vecinity. Beautiful light and we saw lots of herons and egrets and 3 types of monkeys. It was a very relaxing 3 hours but no decent shots as such as birds were a bit too far or too fast. The boat driver also had a tendency to sail into the sun so that you couldn't see anything without cupping your hands above your eyes. I argued that it'd make sense to sail the other round but it all fell on deaf ears. The light would have been much better though as it was technically impossible for my camera to shoot a subject when it was vs the sun, the birds would all look black and their beautiful colours would be gone. I was SO frustrated. Talk about lack of 'common sense' (not so 'common' after all, indeed). Beats me.
We got back when it was dark but no fireflies.. :( another nice dinner from Binta, at 8pm exactly (!!!) but lots of carbs... yet again. This is also why I welcomed the cycling exercise because beside stepping onto a bus OR onto boat I hadn't really had a chance to burn up any calories at all... you couldn't even swim many lengths in the pool as the water felt warmer as you went along. I was starting to feel like a little piggie fattening up.... hum.
Same routine a.m. Woke up late. Bad hair day. Found Ibraham waiting after we'd had breakfast. This time I said 'you know what, I'd love to use the bikes, I haven't cycled for ages, it sounds fun'... it was 10.30am by then and quite hot but he obliged. He found a member of staff who could lend me bike. One pedal was missing but I managed anyway !
Gambia is very flat, the highest point in the whole country is 150m high, so cycling was a breezer... it was only tough because of the heat and one pedal being wonky, but otherwise it was a smooth ride (well, minus the pot holes !) to George Town, 3.5 kms away.
I desperately needed a cold drink on arrival though so we found a small bar by the river and I had my usual coke and lemon. Ibraham then suggested I take a look at the slave house as it's part of the local history. McCarthy island was 'useful' to keep slaves as they could only run so far and not escape without having to swim in crocodile infested waters (there were far more back then). I asked how much it was going to cost me, he just said 'no cost, just donation'.
So we left our bikes at the cafe and walked 25m to the ex-slave house. A guy took us down to the basement. The ceiling was low and had been broken (only a few beams remained). He explained that students broke it to let light in otherwise it'd be too claustrophobic. He showed me two small holes (the size of a hand, no more) that were on each side of the room and were the only windows that people had so that air and light could come in. It was also used to drop food so whoever was nearest the window would eat and whoever was the furthest away would never get anything and starve to death.
The conditions were truly appalling. Besides the fact that these people were 'packed like sardines' (average of 50 in a medium size room) they were also chained at their ankles and wrists and had another chain linking the 2 handcuffs so that they could only walk bent down. I simply cannot imagine not being to stretch for 2 whole weeks, or scratch my back if I was bitten by a mosquitoe... that sounds irritating enough but the worst part by far was to know that the basement flooded with every tide (due to a hole in the ground) and this meant that all the time it was high tide people would be sitting knee high in water and have to use it as toilets basically.
They didn't drink much and didn't eat much so they may not have needed to 'process' much but diseases were rampant in such conditions too (cholera and malaria killed many) and I'm sure that vomit was also part of it. With the water being so dirty in so many ways it was impossible to drink it though you'd be thirsty as hell being in a hot basement with no air.
You could only drink safely when the tide would go out, taking all the muck with it and wait for it to go back up. When it flooded again and only then, the water was fresh and clean and everybody could drink before it got soiled again.
The average wait in such appalling conditions was 2 weeks until the ship arrived to take them to America or Europe. Quite a few people did not survive this wait as the conditions were too harsh and it was 'the survival of the fittest'. The slave masters would look at men's weight to see if they'd be good workers, and women's teeth to check if they were healthy. My book talked at length about the slave trade and it is really shocking to think that people could be treated so cruelly for so long. It has been estimated that 15 million black Africans were sold off between the 15th and 19th century and 95% of them never came back. It was cheaper for the slave masters to work them to death and buy new ones than hope they'll reproduce and feed a child for years until it could be used as a slave as well. When they were dead they'd be thrown in the river for crocodiles.
The slave ships were stinking so much that you could 'smell them for miles'... the British, French, Duch, Portuguese (who 'invented' this) all traded in slaves but so did African nations. In fact, most of the slaves were given away by the kings after the slave masters had brought in spirits to please him. Once they had him totally intoxicated, he was happy to sign any papers and give away anybody. Sad, sad state of affairs.
There was ONE potential exit, the 'Freedom Tree' (now a monument in George Town)... if you managed to escape this pit and run to this particular tree (it was about 3 blocks away) and touch it, you'd be marked with an iron prod 'FREE' for life. But getting to the tree was almost impossible with chains. Plus, they'd set the dogs on you or shoot you in the legs if they thought you might reach it. Out of hundreds who tried only a handful 'made it'. It was probably like a game with hound dogs really... but I guess they didn't have much to lose? You either died now or later in appalling conditions. Death must have been a welcome relief to most, I'm sure.
This whole experience had left me quite shaken. Truly one of the darkest chapters in mankind. It seemed unconceivable that people could be treated so inhumanly for so long. I was thinking that if the RSPCA knew of a dog stuck in a flooded basement in its excrements they'd sue the owner and rescue it. And yet, it seemed perfectly acceptable to treat people this way for FOUR centuries.
The slave trade lost its appeal when the industrial revolution happened in the early 19th, as it reduced the need for labour. Slavery was banned by Britain (who was one of the biggest dealers) in 1807. The French eventually followed in 1848. However, the ban on slavery was frowned upon by the Gambian government who, at the time, viewed it as profitable business and resented its end (!!). In 1880 Muslim leaders in the Gambia were still taking slaves and exporting them and it wasn't until a new law came in 1890 that it became illegal - though some found it hard to stick to the law and carried on till 1911. However, this should be put into some historical perspective: slavery was not abolished in nearby Mauritania until 1980 !!!
After this excursion needless to say that I felt that my own problems had shrunk into nothing. Never before I think had I so understood that part of our destiny is not just linked to *where* we are born, but WHEN. And I felt so lucky to be able to stretch and run and cycle back and feel the wind in my hair.... little things became BIG things all over again. I was FREE. There are a million things every day that we take for granted that some people would have given anything for, way back.
Obviously, I had to sign my name in a book before I left, and again, surprise -not-, the last column was 'donation'. So I put 50 delasi and expressed my astonishment at people before me having supposedly paid '500 - 750'... I was like 'and what for exactly? what do you actually DO with ALL this money?' and he said 'it's for the refurbishment of the building'... I looked at him and said 'what refurbishment? the building is falling apart, it's just a heap of rubble'.... he said 'but we have to preserve it for education'... oh, so there was no refurbishment then... so, why did they need money then? anyway, I felt it was best not to argue... it wasn't worth it for £1 but I didn't want him to think I was actually totally stupid.
Interestingly, the very next day a couple from our lodge went over and saw my name in the book. They told me: 'it had to be you, right? Sylvie - from France - 500'... I said 'excuse me ? 500 ?? I don't think so'... he said 'that's what was written, we thought you'd been very generous when we only gave 100'... I said 'I KNEW they'd do that... I should have crossed the space out after my 50 but didn't dare'... I wish I had now. Little so & so... 'Anyway, the tourists were relieved to know I hadn't been overly generous either :)
Ibraham & I then cycled back to the Bird Safari Camp in 20 mins, ate our lunch at exactly 2pm and as I expressed sheer astonishment at the new GMT I was told 'well, you sort of complained yesterday so Binta is now trying to stick to English time'... wow. Progress.
3.30pm was the best time to have a shower as it was warmer then (first thing in the morning it could be seriously cold) and then I was ready to go back on a smaller boat to look for birds in the vecinity. Beautiful light and we saw lots of herons and egrets and 3 types of monkeys. It was a very relaxing 3 hours but no decent shots as such as birds were a bit too far or too fast. The boat driver also had a tendency to sail into the sun so that you couldn't see anything without cupping your hands above your eyes. I argued that it'd make sense to sail the other round but it all fell on deaf ears. The light would have been much better though as it was technically impossible for my camera to shoot a subject when it was vs the sun, the birds would all look black and their beautiful colours would be gone. I was SO frustrated. Talk about lack of 'common sense' (not so 'common' after all, indeed). Beats me.
We got back when it was dark but no fireflies.. :( another nice dinner from Binta, at 8pm exactly (!!!) but lots of carbs... yet again. This is also why I welcomed the cycling exercise because beside stepping onto a bus OR onto boat I hadn't really had a chance to burn up any calories at all... you couldn't even swim many lengths in the pool as the water felt warmer as you went along. I was starting to feel like a little piggie fattening up.... hum.
posted by Sylvie at 9:16 PM
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