moments since Joal, in brief

toubakouta: explaining american culture and reality TV to shocked residents of senegambia -- our new friends Momo (who we hope to show you on video when we return) and Fams, a gambian who guided us through a river on pirogue (wooden boat with motor).

banjul (The Gambia's capital): noisy dirty and very dark at night. the only clean place was a monstrous european resort-hotel called the atlantic -- nothing like africa at all but that's where all the toubabs (white folks) were spending their evening and their money. very happening place. fascinating but we couldn't wait to get out. We did, in a rush, the next morning.

brufut (laid-back coastal village): ended up at a campement called Elephant House (none in site). This was managed by the local toubab, Mohammad, a British expat. We met several British people there, all of whom seemed to drone on and on, as if we were the first people they'd spoken to in years. In the course of these conversations, Paul would begin to feel excruciatingly claustrophobic, and would begin fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. Mohammad considered Elephant House to be his own private kingdom. He instructed us to "send the boys" if we needed anything from the store or water from the well. Garbage? "Throw it out the window." Electricity was non-existent, so was running water. Oh, and so was toilet paper. No problem. Met a lot of very smart and cool local youth--had a great evening relaxing with them at the local hangout, the Blue Bar. The beach was amazing, with clean, white sand and a calm, warm surf. Only one downside: We spent the day there and both left with incredible sunburns. We could barely sleep for several nights and only now are beginning to recover. Paul had blisters all over his back, chest and arms. We think it is because of the Malarone we're taking, which supposedly renders you vulnerable to the sun. One final note: Everyone, and we mean everyone, from the 14-year old water fetcher to the chief of security, smoked the local Kouchum Paing, or Bob Marley cigarettes, depending on who you talked to. The papaya was scrump.

kartong (southern Gambia, just before the border): spent three days relaxing and recovering from traveling at Boboi Beach Lodge. early morning walking the shore, scanning the tideline for shells. Found an assortment of beautiful ones. Swimming and boogie boarding the tall waves. Spent lazy hours laying around in a treehouse-loft reading, playing backgammon and drinking West African colas and Nescafe. (The local coffee, Cafe Touba, is great but hard to find.) Celebrated Christmas with a buffet and drumming, dancing and singing on the beach. A funny scene, with Toubabs on one side and Africans on another, groups separated by a roaring bonfire of Palm fronds. The highlight of this scene--everyone singing, to the Djembe, "we wish you a merry christmas and a happy new yahr" for what was close to 15 minutes.

abene (back in Senegal, northern Casamance region)--met up with our good friend from Toubakouta, Fams. Spent yesterday doing what we call town hopping, where you spend no more than 5 minutes in a village before moving on. Our goal: to get our passports stamped by the closest Senegalese border officer. We needed the stamp because we'd come through "The Bush" from Kartong (a bush taxi from Gunjur to the river, a canoe across the river, picked up in a beat-beat-beat-beater by three guys from our campement) and, as a result, had not gotten stamped for entry into Senegal. The ride to Abene was through a windy, meter-in-width, dirt track through what was literally a jungle (again, it is on tape). Abene hosts a yearly Djembe festival. We stayed for two nights and saw performances like none we'd ever seen before--really, something out of a dream, a la Lynch. A sister of one of Fams' friends prepared us a meal of Ladyfish and rice--we all partook, gathered around a large platter set in the center of the table, each of us digging in with a spoon. She was pregnant that night and could barely swallow; she had the baby yesterday. The Kora player last night was one of the best in the region--surreal and moving. Sometimes the air in Abene really smelled like rain.