We are galloping into rainy season now, and temperatures are
soaring. Yesterday was 66% humidity which gave a ‘real feel’ temperature of 38
degrees. It’s starting to feel like it did when we first arrived – your skin
feels damp, and you have the sensation that every drop of moisture in your body
is evaporating into the atmosphere. The pace of life is starting to slow,
almost imperceptibly; if you look carefully you realise people are walking that
little bit more slowly, resting for longer in the shade of a tree. The storms
have been tremendous, always at night so far, but rumbling around for hours.
First you see the lightening, flashing and illuminating the sky. Next comes the
wind, building and building until you either see a sheet of rain coming your
way, or hear the steady drops on the zinc roof, getting harder and harder until
you can’t hear anything over the noise. Some of the thunder claps are loud
enough to make you jump out of your skin, especially if you are just drifting
off to sleep, and yet the storms are oddly comforting – the rain and the ceiling
fan join in a kind of white noise that is helping me to sleep through the 5am
call to prayer.
The scenery is changing around us; the trees are coming to
life and getting ready for the rain. It’s like they have had a few sips, and
are now preparing for a long drink. Everything is already starting to look a
little bit greener, there are more birds (which have amazing colours and
markings), and butterflies are flying around that are the size of your palm.
So far the rain isn’t having much of an impact on the sandy roadsides, the ground is still firm and the puddles dry up quickly, but it won’t be long before it gets harder to walk around without losing your shoes to the mud and sand! And
the rain has already brought illness; I and most of my friends and colleagues
have had stomach bugs and ‘fresh cold’ over the last few weeks, as our bodies
adjust to the heat and the new bugs in the air.
So far the rain isn’t having much of an impact on the sandy roadsides, the ground is still firm and the puddles dry up quickly, but it won’t be long before it gets harder to walk around without losing your shoes to the mud and sand!
A praying mantis that I shared my shower with this morning |
Ramadan is imminent, which is also adding to the sense of change. As of Tuesday the ladies selling food on the sides of the road will pack up their stalls. Amina, my friend who sells me tapalapa in the morning says she will stop selling from Tuesday until after Koriteh – around the 7th or 8th of August. She asked me if I would try fasting, and I said I might try for one day – but as soon as I said it I wanted to back track… the not eating part sounds ok, but the thought of not drinking – especially in this heat – fills me with mild panic! She said that she will fast, and explained that she spends most of Ramadan sleeping under a tree too tired to move far from her compound. I rely on Amina and her food to get me through the day. I buy half a tapalapa on the way to work and that fills me up until I get home in the evening (nothing quite as filling as a bean baguette!) so during Ramadan I am going to have to remember to take something to work with me in the mornings! It has been said that during Ramadan more money is spent on food than at any other time of year, but more food is wasted – you go to the market and buy everything you have craved to eat during the day, but if you want to get a good night’s sleep there aren’t enough hours in the night to eat everything you have bought.
And one of the biggest changes, which hasn’t quite sunk in
yet, is that Helen leaves tonight. Her ten month placement has sped by and it
is time for her to return back to her life in the UK. I know that she is ready
to leave in many respects – the pull of nice, clean, well-staffed hospitals,
clothes shops that you don’t have to haggle in, restaurants where you can buy
any style of food you like, pavements that you can walk on in high heels…. I
know she will enjoy being back in the UK but she will miss the friends that she
made here, and they will all miss her very much. It’s a transient community
that we live in, but Helen has been a constant for me even before we left for
The Gambia. We did our pre-departure training together - bonded over wine at
Harborne Hall - and I knew as soon as we found out we were going to the same
place that we were going to have a great time together. So, I shall be very sad to say
farewell, but glad to have shared the good times with her since we arrived in
September.
What a great description of everything changing with the weather and I'm as sorry as you that Helen has moved on!
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