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Published: December 13th 2007
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The Hotel in the Delta
Nice people, but .. never again. Where were we at? Oh, yeah, the overpriced airplane trip to Conakry. Dakar is just barely sub-Saharan, and relatively dry. Guinea is at the beginning of the rainforests, and the city itself is a finger jutting out into the ocean. I'm sure it keeps a few people cooler that way... 3 or 4 of them, if they turn the air conditioning on.
I was greeted by an online acquaintance of the team - supposedly a trapper, a the only person who hadn't tried to get them to send money. He was accompanied by the airport veterinarian and some other fellow. I received an honored welcome, shuffled on past the customs agents who would have tried to extort funds from me. The fellow, like most in Guinea, hoped to gain a position in the good graces of an American, and wanted to show off his farm to me. The vet just wanted a photo op, I suppose... and perhaps to meet a raptor biologist. Moving right along, we got his early 90's diesel station wagon push-started, and they dropped me off at a hotel for the night, promising to return in the morning to get the expedition, (which was already behind
Sunrise in the Delta
This was taken from the compound that first night in Conakry. schedule,) under way.
The hotel was located at the edge of a waterway, in the midst of the delta... elevation 2 feet, humidity 135%. They had air conditioning, and a fan, and even a generator. The place is walled, with a night guard. I should be set. Should is a very funny word... but not ha-ha funny. Guinea gets electricity, roads, and everything else by leave of LC, the military dictator who took the country by coupe back in the 80's. Nearing his own 80's now, the man smokes 2-3 packs a day, but refuses to cede the nation... or to die. Meanwhile, the electric is on from 7:45 pm til 6 am whether you need it or not. But apparently not at this hotel. The current would kick on and off every few seconds, causing their generator to pulse on and off as well. In the final result, it was sweltering and neither fan nor AC would function. The air was smotheringy still... and I gave serious thought to putting up my tent in the courtyard. The result was that I stayed up all night long, unable to sleep, awaiting the arrival of the so-called Trapper who was
African Art
This sculpture graced the compound of the hotel. to serve as guide in Guinea and speed the expedition to a good result.
At dawn, I wandered about, took in some half-finished buildings, their construction abruptly abandoned, and watched as people gathered reeds into bundles to take to the market (selling them for roofing.) Then I wandered around some more. Finally, at about 10 am, I figured I'd been ditched and started walking out and on down the road. I got about 2 blocks when the Trapper pulled up in his hoopty. (This was to be a consistent trend. Never heard of a trapper who thought morning started any later than dawn, but this guy was NEVER out before 10 am.) I sighed deeply and got in to go see his farm.
To call it a farm was a bit of an exaggeration. More like a bird coup. He didn't raise anything, just held them in clean roomy pens, awaiting sale and export. His mother's house was nice, they were pleasant, but I wasn't invited in. A helper tried to con me out of money. "You're taking my boss away, I won't make any money while he's gone. What gift do you have for me?" I pointed
out that gifts were usually exchanged and asked what he had for me. That ended that discourse.😊
In the process, I had acquired (use of) a car from the guy who stole $2500 from my sponsors. It was a 1986 (?) VW Golf, one of two cars the thief owned (along with a very snazzy $400 cell phone, etc.) I also inherited a Driver. He piloted the Golf for something less than 20 minutes before I decided I would be dead before I ever got out of Dakar if I didn't take over. So now I had a local as an assistant. He spoke French and Malinke, and wasn't entirely unwilling to work. Besides, I needed a token African in my employ to keep things clean with the police, etc.
Conakry proper is filthy. The police corruption is so well known that people who get pulled over (by a guy with a whistle, uniform and nothing else) greet him with a handshake, into which is pressed some cash, and they're waved on their way in very pleasant fashion. That openness is good, in a way. Cutting through the sophistry and appearances means you can give him 50 cents
Tardy Trapper & Company
The guy on the right was the Trapper, his mother in the middle, and "What gift have you for me?" on the left. and get on your way. Other countries do the same thing, but are less honest about it, so they waste 5 minutes of your time staring at your papers and sighing and "tsk!ing until you bribe them. At least this way, I'm not held up over it. We stopped at a money-changer's to get a HUGE THICK wad of Guinea francs that was proper trade for about $100 USD. I'm not entirely sure why or how, but these guys make money on the transaction, and they offer a better exchange rate than the banks do.
There's an animal market in Conakry as well. Though I can't find a photo now, I was offered a Mongoose for a very fair price. Cute and playful, and less spazzed out than our ferrets are, I was sorely tempted... but the mission was bite-sized falcons, so better judgment held me back. If I settle there, I'll want one, perhaps in lieu of a dog or cat.😊 There were several animals there, including a long-crested Eagle. Not being falconers, they didn't have a clue how to care for it, and clipped wing and tail feathers to keep it from flying off. Other more common
Hotel #2 indoors
See all the red? Backpacker in a hotel.. oxymorons abound! birds were tethered to rocks... It wasn't quite as bad as the ones I'd seen in cages in Morocco, but it was still hard to not buy the bird and keep it til it could be released again. Eye on the target, though, we moved on.
From the delta, Guinea rises up into hills and plateaus. The roads are 2-lanes (1 in each direction) and most often have no shoulder. Many lives have been lost on them (See also: Tale of Two Sons, a movie by a returned Peace Corps volunteer.) It's beautiful country, all the same, and it didnt' take long to start falling for Guinea, once I got out of the armpit called Conakry. I vowed not to return to that vile place if I had any choice at all.
Next stop - the REAL Guinea!
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