Hey Everyone,
Well this fantastic trip has come to an end. We arrived safely in Toronto last Wednesday, and I can truly say it feels good to be home again. I had a wonderful time in The Gambia, but no matter how much you love a place, you love coming home more.
I want to thank everyone who followed my blog, and especially those who posted comments to it. They helped buoy my spirits during some of the low points of the trip.
Give me a call or an e-mail and I'd love to catch up over coffee, or beer, whatever your preference is. I should have pictures organized to show off by the end of this week.
Love
Justin
Monday, August 17, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
An Epic Day!
So we decided that we should ring out our last Saturday in The Gambia in style. We had looked a few weeks ago at doing a few different tourist trips, but after taking part in one and feeling like we were little more than sheep being herded around and given a dog and pony show about what 'true african life' is supposedly like, we decided to forgo the second 2-day trip that would have seen us leave from Banjul, drive to Ferrefenni, take an overnight boat to Georgetown, then drive back to Banjul. We were a little depressed that Megan and I especially, would not be able to see more of the country, so we hatched the idea for one last hurrah, and managed to break about 6 national laws in the process (most completely of ignorance, and by accident).
On Friday night we rented a 4x4 car and readied for a roadtrip to end all roadtrips. We decided we would drive ourselves to Georgetown, and if it could work, take a fishing boat to see hippos.
We left at 6 am to try to catch the first ferry across from Banjul to Barre, but when we arrived, were told the biggest of the 3 ferries was broken down, and, with a bribe of $20 we might be able to get on in 2-4 hrs. We decided, rather than wait around doing nothing for hours, we would all rather drive, and opted to take the south bank road... which pretty much meant we were no longer going to make it to Georgetown.
Now you need to know a few things about transportation in The Gambia. There are, in all honesty, 2 roads in The Gambia. One runs along the North Bank, the other along the South Bank.
At one point, nearly 35 years ago, the South Bank road was paved nearly 3/4 of the length of the country, and the North Bank road, paved about 15 years ago.
Another thing to know is that road construction is relatively impressive in The Gambia.... road maintenance on the other hand is functionally incompetent. Needless to say, after nearly 30 years of utter neglect, the South Bank highway is little more than a heavily pot-holed, frequently washed out, completely unmarked dirt pathway curving its way throughout the country. This is the road we choose to drive on.
It was absolutely a day about the journey, not the destination... so much so, that as we started off, I nearly passed right by the first police check point I came to. I wasn't able to stop until about 50 m past the line, and had to reverse back to the waiting police officer, who luckily, had a sense of humor about the whole thing.
We travelled along the south bank all the way to Soma, stopping along the way at about 10 police checks, as well as the village of Kolali; to try to see a game park that the president has on his personal grounds, as well as Brikama for some breakfast.
Once arriving in Soma, we took the ferry across the river to the North Bank, and the village of Ferrefenni. Anyone who earlier looked for where Njawara was, it's midway between Barre and Ferrefenni. We stopped in Ferrefenni for lunch, which consisted of a street side hut, with a large bowl of completely raw beef pieces (surely not one cut, I think i ate liver at some point, as well as some gristle, and i'd guess at least 3 different cuts of beef), that they pick up (bare handed of course), and throw into a waiting hot wok to fry it together with some seasoning and onions, then serve it to you to eat with your bare hands.
I think when we first got here, I would have politely (I hope) declined the offer, but time cures all fears, and I was hungry, so dove right on into one of the best meals I've had since arriving in the gambia, and surely one of the cheapest... at only $1 for the plate of food, I was a happy man.
We then loaded back up into the car, filled up on gas and kept heading East. We had set 4 pm as the 'turnaround time', the point at which, in order to catch the last ferry at Barre, and make it back the same day, we'd have to turn around. We figured we'd just drive from Ferrefenni Eastwards until 4, still in the direction of Georgetown, but without really expecting to make it there, then turnaround and head back.
Until this point, all of the police checkpoints were of no problem whatsoever. The worst we had was (aside from teh one i nearly ran), was one cop who suggested that I drive a little slower. I had driven the entire way to Farafenni, having rented the car on my licence, and being the only person on teh trip with an International Driving Permit (not absolutely necessary, but recommended). In Ferrefenni I was feeling tired, so Jordan offered to drive. At the first checkpoint he drove up to, he got stopped and asked for his drivers licence and insurance. We produced these, and the officer asked for his Gambian permit (essentially was asking for the IDP)
As 4 pm approached, we rounded the north bend of the river and came to Wasso. At the police checkpoint in Basse, I think the officer had either a chip on his shoulder or felt like giving us a hard time. He asked for Jordan's licence, which we provided, and insurance, again, no problem. Wanted to find out something else, then looked at Megan and said "Come with me."
At this point we all got our back up just a little, and adamently outright refused. We asked what he needed her for, then looked at her and said "What are you dressed like this for?" (she was dressed as any 21 year old female would at home, but i guess he was offended by it). We still refused to answer him directly. Megan was in the back and Jordan was now standing outside the drivers seat. He then asked to see our passports, and shortly afterwards told us to go. Needless to say it was a bit of a harrowing experience.
We then were getting ready to turn around, thinking we were still about 1 hour outside of Georgetown, when we looked at the map and had somehow, in about 5 minutes, closed 3/4 of the distance between Wasso and Georgetown. None of us is yet sure if this was a cartographic error or we found a wormhole in the middle of the country, but 2 minutes later we pulled up to the ferry terminal at Georgetown.
Just before reaching Georgetown there is a military checkpoint. Police checkpoints are often nothing more than a sign on the road, and a guy sitting under a tree who, if you honk your horn twice as you approach, waves you through without getting up. Military checkpoints on the other hand never give the option of driving through. they are always manned by two men, one with an AK 47 in his hands while he questions you, safety off, but finger over the trigger guard, the other is sitting in a bunker on the side of the road with a full machine gun at the ready, and pointing at you as you drive up. At no time, in either direction is there more than one person in the checkpoint at a time. Jordan hasn't driven through one of these, and nearly followed the car in front of him into the checkpoint, until Megaan and I both started yelling to stop immediately! Again, luckily, the guard was pretty easygoing and just warned Jordan to give TONS of space at teh military checkpoints and absolutely not drive into or through one.
We made it to our destination. We didnt' have enough time to go into a boat and see hippos, but we made it all the way to Georgetown. Because we took the South Bank Road, and detoured to President Jamme's zoo, among other things, the trip there took us 10 hours. We now had 5 to drive back to Barre, but the North Bank Road is more like a country road in Canada, on which you can mostly drive 80 km comfortably, sometimes 100 km/h.
So after taking a few pictures, we hopped back into the car and started our return journey. None of the police check points that gave us trouble on the way there, bothered us on the way back. They did however start asking us if we had anything for them..... if we might feel it in our hearts to help them, maybe buy attaya, since they've been working all day. We had been warned of this previously, that many of the check points would either find some minor flaw (broken light, something in your insurance or some other missing safety thing) and suggest it could all go away right now... for a small fee, but we hadn't seen any of it yet. I had heard many people have to drop as much as 500 ($20) Dalasis on the North Bank Road, so we started having ready 10 ($0.40) dalasis at each checkpoint and after giving out, i think 5 total, we got pretty good at passing the bill by handshake. Along the entire trip i think we had to give out about 100 Dalasis ($4).
We decided, having a standard vehicle to try out, that Adam and Megan, if they wanted, could try to learn standard while we were driving. Adam took up the offer, so we put him in the front seat, and surprisingly he didn't stall it his first two starts. He was doing ok until he put it in 5th gear and apparently the force he felt overcame his ability to steer straight and we swerved a little violently for a second before he regained control, 500 feet before a police checkpoint. Again we were asked for licence and insurance, as well as having our fire extinguisher, lights and indicators all checked.
Adam did manage his first stall, as he tried to pull away from the police checkpoint, but recovered on the second attempt.
We got to Barre and crossed on the ferry without incident and in record time. As we were getting off of the ferry, i suggested we drive through Banjul for the last time we are here, and see Arch 22 one last time.
Another thing for you to know, NO ONE except for the President himself is ever allowed to drive under Arch 22. There is a pretty impressive road leading up to it, with a turn off about 300 feet before the arch itself.... i missed said turn-off, and convinced that there was a ringroad, actually drove up to, and under the Arch, right to the point they have a chain spread across the road to stop you from going through.... Again, luckily for me, the solider standing there had a sense of humor, and told me to turn around to go back.
From that point out, we had an uneventful 30 minutes back to the hotel, but all in all, it was a 16 hour driving marathon, in which we saw 5 of the 6 'provinces' or districts of The Gambia and broke more laws than I care to mention.
While it was surely more about the journey than the destination, it was pretty awesome that we made our destination as well.
We got to see all the country we wanted to see, take our own pace, live, drive, eat and talk with real locals, and did it all without a guide, without a driver and without a clue sometimes what we were actually doing.
I can't think of a better way to see the country, or to spend our last weekend in The Gambia. It was a way to go out on a high note, as we now prepare to pack our bags and head home.
On Friday night we rented a 4x4 car and readied for a roadtrip to end all roadtrips. We decided we would drive ourselves to Georgetown, and if it could work, take a fishing boat to see hippos.
We left at 6 am to try to catch the first ferry across from Banjul to Barre, but when we arrived, were told the biggest of the 3 ferries was broken down, and, with a bribe of $20 we might be able to get on in 2-4 hrs. We decided, rather than wait around doing nothing for hours, we would all rather drive, and opted to take the south bank road... which pretty much meant we were no longer going to make it to Georgetown.
Now you need to know a few things about transportation in The Gambia. There are, in all honesty, 2 roads in The Gambia. One runs along the North Bank, the other along the South Bank.
At one point, nearly 35 years ago, the South Bank road was paved nearly 3/4 of the length of the country, and the North Bank road, paved about 15 years ago.
Another thing to know is that road construction is relatively impressive in The Gambia.... road maintenance on the other hand is functionally incompetent. Needless to say, after nearly 30 years of utter neglect, the South Bank highway is little more than a heavily pot-holed, frequently washed out, completely unmarked dirt pathway curving its way throughout the country. This is the road we choose to drive on.
It was absolutely a day about the journey, not the destination... so much so, that as we started off, I nearly passed right by the first police check point I came to. I wasn't able to stop until about 50 m past the line, and had to reverse back to the waiting police officer, who luckily, had a sense of humor about the whole thing.
We travelled along the south bank all the way to Soma, stopping along the way at about 10 police checks, as well as the village of Kolali; to try to see a game park that the president has on his personal grounds, as well as Brikama for some breakfast.
Once arriving in Soma, we took the ferry across the river to the North Bank, and the village of Ferrefenni. Anyone who earlier looked for where Njawara was, it's midway between Barre and Ferrefenni. We stopped in Ferrefenni for lunch, which consisted of a street side hut, with a large bowl of completely raw beef pieces (surely not one cut, I think i ate liver at some point, as well as some gristle, and i'd guess at least 3 different cuts of beef), that they pick up (bare handed of course), and throw into a waiting hot wok to fry it together with some seasoning and onions, then serve it to you to eat with your bare hands.
I think when we first got here, I would have politely (I hope) declined the offer, but time cures all fears, and I was hungry, so dove right on into one of the best meals I've had since arriving in the gambia, and surely one of the cheapest... at only $1 for the plate of food, I was a happy man.
We then loaded back up into the car, filled up on gas and kept heading East. We had set 4 pm as the 'turnaround time', the point at which, in order to catch the last ferry at Barre, and make it back the same day, we'd have to turn around. We figured we'd just drive from Ferrefenni Eastwards until 4, still in the direction of Georgetown, but without really expecting to make it there, then turnaround and head back.
Until this point, all of the police checkpoints were of no problem whatsoever. The worst we had was (aside from teh one i nearly ran), was one cop who suggested that I drive a little slower. I had driven the entire way to Farafenni, having rented the car on my licence, and being the only person on teh trip with an International Driving Permit (not absolutely necessary, but recommended). In Ferrefenni I was feeling tired, so Jordan offered to drive. At the first checkpoint he drove up to, he got stopped and asked for his drivers licence and insurance. We produced these, and the officer asked for his Gambian permit (essentially was asking for the IDP)
As 4 pm approached, we rounded the north bend of the river and came to Wasso. At the police checkpoint in Basse, I think the officer had either a chip on his shoulder or felt like giving us a hard time. He asked for Jordan's licence, which we provided, and insurance, again, no problem. Wanted to find out something else, then looked at Megan and said "Come with me."
At this point we all got our back up just a little, and adamently outright refused. We asked what he needed her for, then looked at her and said "What are you dressed like this for?" (she was dressed as any 21 year old female would at home, but i guess he was offended by it). We still refused to answer him directly. Megan was in the back and Jordan was now standing outside the drivers seat. He then asked to see our passports, and shortly afterwards told us to go. Needless to say it was a bit of a harrowing experience.
We then were getting ready to turn around, thinking we were still about 1 hour outside of Georgetown, when we looked at the map and had somehow, in about 5 minutes, closed 3/4 of the distance between Wasso and Georgetown. None of us is yet sure if this was a cartographic error or we found a wormhole in the middle of the country, but 2 minutes later we pulled up to the ferry terminal at Georgetown.
Just before reaching Georgetown there is a military checkpoint. Police checkpoints are often nothing more than a sign on the road, and a guy sitting under a tree who, if you honk your horn twice as you approach, waves you through without getting up. Military checkpoints on the other hand never give the option of driving through. they are always manned by two men, one with an AK 47 in his hands while he questions you, safety off, but finger over the trigger guard, the other is sitting in a bunker on the side of the road with a full machine gun at the ready, and pointing at you as you drive up. At no time, in either direction is there more than one person in the checkpoint at a time. Jordan hasn't driven through one of these, and nearly followed the car in front of him into the checkpoint, until Megaan and I both started yelling to stop immediately! Again, luckily, the guard was pretty easygoing and just warned Jordan to give TONS of space at teh military checkpoints and absolutely not drive into or through one.
We made it to our destination. We didnt' have enough time to go into a boat and see hippos, but we made it all the way to Georgetown. Because we took the South Bank Road, and detoured to President Jamme's zoo, among other things, the trip there took us 10 hours. We now had 5 to drive back to Barre, but the North Bank Road is more like a country road in Canada, on which you can mostly drive 80 km comfortably, sometimes 100 km/h.
So after taking a few pictures, we hopped back into the car and started our return journey. None of the police check points that gave us trouble on the way there, bothered us on the way back. They did however start asking us if we had anything for them..... if we might feel it in our hearts to help them, maybe buy attaya, since they've been working all day. We had been warned of this previously, that many of the check points would either find some minor flaw (broken light, something in your insurance or some other missing safety thing) and suggest it could all go away right now... for a small fee, but we hadn't seen any of it yet. I had heard many people have to drop as much as 500 ($20) Dalasis on the North Bank Road, so we started having ready 10 ($0.40) dalasis at each checkpoint and after giving out, i think 5 total, we got pretty good at passing the bill by handshake. Along the entire trip i think we had to give out about 100 Dalasis ($4).
We decided, having a standard vehicle to try out, that Adam and Megan, if they wanted, could try to learn standard while we were driving. Adam took up the offer, so we put him in the front seat, and surprisingly he didn't stall it his first two starts. He was doing ok until he put it in 5th gear and apparently the force he felt overcame his ability to steer straight and we swerved a little violently for a second before he regained control, 500 feet before a police checkpoint. Again we were asked for licence and insurance, as well as having our fire extinguisher, lights and indicators all checked.
Adam did manage his first stall, as he tried to pull away from the police checkpoint, but recovered on the second attempt.
We got to Barre and crossed on the ferry without incident and in record time. As we were getting off of the ferry, i suggested we drive through Banjul for the last time we are here, and see Arch 22 one last time.
Another thing for you to know, NO ONE except for the President himself is ever allowed to drive under Arch 22. There is a pretty impressive road leading up to it, with a turn off about 300 feet before the arch itself.... i missed said turn-off, and convinced that there was a ringroad, actually drove up to, and under the Arch, right to the point they have a chain spread across the road to stop you from going through.... Again, luckily for me, the solider standing there had a sense of humor, and told me to turn around to go back.
From that point out, we had an uneventful 30 minutes back to the hotel, but all in all, it was a 16 hour driving marathon, in which we saw 5 of the 6 'provinces' or districts of The Gambia and broke more laws than I care to mention.
While it was surely more about the journey than the destination, it was pretty awesome that we made our destination as well.
We got to see all the country we wanted to see, take our own pace, live, drive, eat and talk with real locals, and did it all without a guide, without a driver and without a clue sometimes what we were actually doing.
I can't think of a better way to see the country, or to spend our last weekend in The Gambia. It was a way to go out on a high note, as we now prepare to pack our bags and head home.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Holy Water Batman!
So yesterday we had a first hand experience of what the rains in The Gambia really are like.
The storm started innocuously enough, with a steady, but not incredibly heavy rain.
I really didn't even notice how heavily it was raining, or how much rain had fallen until the power went out.
I only really truly appreciated the quantity of water we were talking about when i got up to go to the bathroom and the path, through the outside garden of the restaurant, was ankle deep with water.
Soon afterwards we had finished our meal and went to leave (poncho ready), when we stepped out into the road and were mid--shin deep in water.
The entire road, from 'curb' to 'curb' was about 6" deep with water, covering the road like a lake. The next surprise came when we got to the nearest intersection, and found where the water was 'draining' to... we had to cross a literal river of water with a current that actually made you have to catch your balance. At times we stepped as deep as our knee into eddys that had been formed, and had to cross 3 main highways/roadways that were completely covered with water.
The true magnitude of the problem only dawns on you when you stop to think about the drainage system here... of which there is none... all the water that falls on the road, rather than entering a storm water system, flows along the top, and sides of the road... of all roads... following the natural depressions of the land, they have a bad habit of combining at the lowest point... which luckily or not for us, is only 400m from our hotel. In front of our hotel, and along the entire width of the road, was a river, flowing at least 6 inches, and in some places a full 12" deep, across the road, where 5 different 'tributary' roads had contributed their water load to ours. I was considering finding a canoe and going for a ride along the road. I would have floated with little trouble.
the true magnitude of the damage was seen this morning when we walked out to find many parts of the road dropped by 3 or even 6 inches in most places, and in some, as deep as 2-3 feet.
I have no idea how the country is able to deal with such an immense amount of water, but this morning, everything was pretty much dry, mind you much civil engineering work was destroyed as alot of the dirt road had washed away and the path is now somewhat treacherous to drive along, but to each their own.
It was incredible!
5 more days, I can't wait to be home again!
Love ya
JP
The storm started innocuously enough, with a steady, but not incredibly heavy rain.
I really didn't even notice how heavily it was raining, or how much rain had fallen until the power went out.
I only really truly appreciated the quantity of water we were talking about when i got up to go to the bathroom and the path, through the outside garden of the restaurant, was ankle deep with water.
Soon afterwards we had finished our meal and went to leave (poncho ready), when we stepped out into the road and were mid--shin deep in water.
The entire road, from 'curb' to 'curb' was about 6" deep with water, covering the road like a lake. The next surprise came when we got to the nearest intersection, and found where the water was 'draining' to... we had to cross a literal river of water with a current that actually made you have to catch your balance. At times we stepped as deep as our knee into eddys that had been formed, and had to cross 3 main highways/roadways that were completely covered with water.
The true magnitude of the problem only dawns on you when you stop to think about the drainage system here... of which there is none... all the water that falls on the road, rather than entering a storm water system, flows along the top, and sides of the road... of all roads... following the natural depressions of the land, they have a bad habit of combining at the lowest point... which luckily or not for us, is only 400m from our hotel. In front of our hotel, and along the entire width of the road, was a river, flowing at least 6 inches, and in some places a full 12" deep, across the road, where 5 different 'tributary' roads had contributed their water load to ours. I was considering finding a canoe and going for a ride along the road. I would have floated with little trouble.
the true magnitude of the damage was seen this morning when we walked out to find many parts of the road dropped by 3 or even 6 inches in most places, and in some, as deep as 2-3 feet.
I have no idea how the country is able to deal with such an immense amount of water, but this morning, everything was pretty much dry, mind you much civil engineering work was destroyed as alot of the dirt road had washed away and the path is now somewhat treacherous to drive along, but to each their own.
It was incredible!
5 more days, I can't wait to be home again!
Love ya
JP
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Our first goodbye
Hey Everyone,
So we had a bit of a hard day today. Today is Aminata's birthday (our 4 year-old host sister), so at the request of our host family, we traveled with Adam and Jordan, back to Sanyang for our last time today. The party was fun, and it was so nice to see the kids again (i think about 20 of them came out to dance and sing).
The hard part of course came when we had to leave, knowing that we'll be leaving for the last time, and it's completely unknown if we'll ever see them again.
As much as our time there was a bit trying, having to cope with many new things, and adapt to a way of life far from what we would call normal, I really grew fond of the kids, and have a great deal of respect for our host mother, and her sister Natoo who also lives in the house.
Today really hammered home the fact that we're coming down to the last few days of our trip, and we're going to have to start to say goodbye to all of the friends we have made here. That's not to say that i'm not looking forward to being home, I truly and honestly cannot wait for the next 9 days (as of Monday it's single digits) to go by and to be back with all of you, but it's surely going to be a bittersweet departure. While it could never replace Canada, and London and Cambridge, this place has been our home for the last 3 months, and I've grown somewhat fond of it (of course, ask me at the end of a bad day and i'll sing a different tune). I suppose it's just hard to accept this trip is nearing it's conclusion. Its been full of joys and frustrations, incredible memories, and days that just wouldn't end, laughing moments of joy and friendship, as well as low points of mild depression and lonliness. I think in spite of all the changes we had to make, the uncertaintly about our day to day activities or what we would actually accomplish at the end of the trip, I've had a successful trip if only that i've gained the knowledge that i can survive trips of this nature, without losing sight of the things at home that are most important to me.
Looking forward to seeing all of you again in what is really, a very soon time.
Love,
JP
So we had a bit of a hard day today. Today is Aminata's birthday (our 4 year-old host sister), so at the request of our host family, we traveled with Adam and Jordan, back to Sanyang for our last time today. The party was fun, and it was so nice to see the kids again (i think about 20 of them came out to dance and sing).
The hard part of course came when we had to leave, knowing that we'll be leaving for the last time, and it's completely unknown if we'll ever see them again.
As much as our time there was a bit trying, having to cope with many new things, and adapt to a way of life far from what we would call normal, I really grew fond of the kids, and have a great deal of respect for our host mother, and her sister Natoo who also lives in the house.
Today really hammered home the fact that we're coming down to the last few days of our trip, and we're going to have to start to say goodbye to all of the friends we have made here. That's not to say that i'm not looking forward to being home, I truly and honestly cannot wait for the next 9 days (as of Monday it's single digits) to go by and to be back with all of you, but it's surely going to be a bittersweet departure. While it could never replace Canada, and London and Cambridge, this place has been our home for the last 3 months, and I've grown somewhat fond of it (of course, ask me at the end of a bad day and i'll sing a different tune). I suppose it's just hard to accept this trip is nearing it's conclusion. Its been full of joys and frustrations, incredible memories, and days that just wouldn't end, laughing moments of joy and friendship, as well as low points of mild depression and lonliness. I think in spite of all the changes we had to make, the uncertaintly about our day to day activities or what we would actually accomplish at the end of the trip, I've had a successful trip if only that i've gained the knowledge that i can survive trips of this nature, without losing sight of the things at home that are most important to me.
Looking forward to seeing all of you again in what is really, a very soon time.
Love,
JP
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Video of our Pump Installation
Hey everyone,
So rather than providing just lame pictures that aren't exciting at all, i put together a movie of our pump build and install from the start to the end. I hope you enjoy.
JP
oh, p.s. there is only a very little bit of audio during the video clips, so don't worry if you hear nothing.
So rather than providing just lame pictures that aren't exciting at all, i put together a movie of our pump build and install from the start to the end. I hope you enjoy.
JP
oh, p.s. there is only a very little bit of audio during the video clips, so don't worry if you hear nothing.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Today was an awesome day!
We have been working the last few weeks with Paul at Concern Universal to re-design a rope pump so that it can be used for deep wells, beyond 24 m, where the weight of water, and the losses in the pump make drawing water a very difficult technical challenge.
After providing Paul with some ideas we had, he suggested we focus on one idea, building a flywheel that will attach to the pump and make drawing the water up easier.
Last Thursday we started at a local metal shop on the fabrication of our flywheel. Over the next four days it took shape and today we took the whole apparatus out to a site known to be difficult for pumps to successfully draw water up. After installing the pump and flywheel to the well, we started it up. Though it was still difficult, after priming the system for about 20 turns, we had a good steady flow of water coming up from the deep.
Our idea worked marvellously. There are still some minor modifications that we will be making over the next few days, but from the outset, we were able to achieve a flow rate of 24 litres per minute for a 21 metre deep well (or if you had the endurance, more than 1400 litres in an hour). It's not the best flowrate i've ever heard, but is up there on the scale of success, and places our design within the realm of feasible we were hoping for.
some traditional hand pumps can deliver 1000 l/hr, while a horse drawn pump (i don't even know what it would look like) has been measured to deliver closer to 3000 L/hr.
Needless to say both Megan and I are pretty proud of what we have accomplished, and in only 1 week of fabrication. One of the modifications we'll be making will allow the user to pull on a rope to spin the flywheel. It was a last minute idea by our manufacturing guru, Cham, but we tested it out on site and it worked very well... the modification we need to make is ot allow the rope to slip/twist, as when we tied it, it was wanting to twist on itself.
We have conquered one of the most difficult wells that Concern Universal has in their database.
Today was a very good day!
Pictures will be posted up soon.
After providing Paul with some ideas we had, he suggested we focus on one idea, building a flywheel that will attach to the pump and make drawing the water up easier.
Last Thursday we started at a local metal shop on the fabrication of our flywheel. Over the next four days it took shape and today we took the whole apparatus out to a site known to be difficult for pumps to successfully draw water up. After installing the pump and flywheel to the well, we started it up. Though it was still difficult, after priming the system for about 20 turns, we had a good steady flow of water coming up from the deep.
Our idea worked marvellously. There are still some minor modifications that we will be making over the next few days, but from the outset, we were able to achieve a flow rate of 24 litres per minute for a 21 metre deep well (or if you had the endurance, more than 1400 litres in an hour). It's not the best flowrate i've ever heard, but is up there on the scale of success, and places our design within the realm of feasible we were hoping for.
some traditional hand pumps can deliver 1000 l/hr, while a horse drawn pump (i don't even know what it would look like) has been measured to deliver closer to 3000 L/hr.
Needless to say both Megan and I are pretty proud of what we have accomplished, and in only 1 week of fabrication. One of the modifications we'll be making will allow the user to pull on a rope to spin the flywheel. It was a last minute idea by our manufacturing guru, Cham, but we tested it out on site and it worked very well... the modification we need to make is ot allow the rope to slip/twist, as when we tied it, it was wanting to twist on itself.
We have conquered one of the most difficult wells that Concern Universal has in their database.
Today was a very good day!
Pictures will be posted up soon.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Being a real tourist - boat trip up the Gambia River to Fort St. James
So we had an interesting experience on Sunday, as our trip is starting to wind down (only 15 days remaining as I write this), we thought it would be sillyy of us not to take a trip up the Gambia River, which is one of the main tourist things to do while here, aside from sit on the beach drinking beer.
We signed up with a 1 day trip to leave from the Banjul Seaport (where the ferry departs from), and travel upriver about 20 nautical miles to the village of Juffreh. It was nice to meet other Toubabs while we were on the boat, and struck up some lively conversation with several other people enroute. Being on the boat made me very homesick.... well maybe more appropriately, boat-sick... missing the lazy days spent on top of the boat, laughing, swimming, and relaxing.
We arrived in Juffreh for our tour around a 'traditional African village'. It was kinda heartbreaking, as the village was of normal construction, but the relationship to Njawara or Sanyang, where we have spent considerable time on this trip ends at that point. The village has focused itself on these boat trips for its income, and as a result, is anything but 'traditional' or 'authentic'. As we walked along the road, children were dancing in the street and banging on improvised containers trying to receive some money or candy from the Toubabs passing through. The whole culture of the village was different than what we have had the great luck of witnessing first hand. Everyone who came up to you spoke in English, and wasn't just wondering about who you were and where you were from, but was trying to get you to buy something from them, or give something to them. They even sold in large bags, the candies the kids were begging for. Talk about a supply and demand situation.
All in all it was more eye-opening than enjoyable. The vast majority of the tourists we were travelling with were respectful, however there were the handful who were completely ignorant and in some cases outright offensive to the locals. One man carried an open bottle of beer off the boat with him, into a Muslim village, was walking around without his shirt for nearly the whole time, until I told him he is about to meet the village Alkalo and should, out of respect, clothe himself. They had a replica of a slave boat in the museum we visited. We were asked outright not to climb onboard, that didn't stop them in anyway, and as we were leaving, we noticed a large contingent of children surrounding the two. It occurred to us immediatley that, again although being asked not to give the kids anything, but to place candies, books, pencils, whatever we had into a communal collection to be given out to the children at a later time... this both to ensure fairness, and to discourage children from skipping school everytime a Toubab boat pulls in, that these two people were handing out candies to each of the children. At one point, one of the guides took a handful from the woman and placed them in the collection. As they were at the edge of the village, a persistent girl who had stayed with them to this point was rewarded with a candy. She ran back towards us, and her two friends, showing it off. I'm reasonably certain she would have been beaten up by the other girls over this small candy. Glad we Toubabs are so generous!
It just made me really disappointed at this culture of 'gotta go to Africa, gotta see the poor black kids, gotta make them love me by giving trinkets and candy so I feel better inside. These people have now 'seen' the real African village, and can go back to their 4 and 5 star hotels completely satisfied they made the world a better place by spending 15 minutes with less advantaged people. It made me not want to ever be that 'tourist' again.
After spending about 1.5 hrs in Juffreh, they took us across the water to Fort James Island. This was the staging ground for the West African slave trade. Boats would arrive from England and Europe, unload cargo, load up with slaves, who had been led to Juffreh by captors, and sold by traders, then loaded onto the slave boat to go to the Americas. The island we saw was only about 1/6 of it's original size, it is being lost into the sea by tidal erosion. We were able to walk around the remaining ruins a bit, and get a sense of how cramped and unbelievably crowded the spaces these people were crammed into actually are. It gave me pause to think of some of the atrocities we have committed in our drive to success.
We then returned to the boat for our trip back to Banjul. Along the way we were treated to seeing some dolphins swimming in the river. A few came withing 150 feet of our boat. It was a nice ending to the day.
I think, above all else, what I gained from the trip today was a realization about how narrow minded we can be, and how incomplete our understanding of the world really is.
We signed up with a 1 day trip to leave from the Banjul Seaport (where the ferry departs from), and travel upriver about 20 nautical miles to the village of Juffreh. It was nice to meet other Toubabs while we were on the boat, and struck up some lively conversation with several other people enroute. Being on the boat made me very homesick.... well maybe more appropriately, boat-sick... missing the lazy days spent on top of the boat, laughing, swimming, and relaxing.
We arrived in Juffreh for our tour around a 'traditional African village'. It was kinda heartbreaking, as the village was of normal construction, but the relationship to Njawara or Sanyang, where we have spent considerable time on this trip ends at that point. The village has focused itself on these boat trips for its income, and as a result, is anything but 'traditional' or 'authentic'. As we walked along the road, children were dancing in the street and banging on improvised containers trying to receive some money or candy from the Toubabs passing through. The whole culture of the village was different than what we have had the great luck of witnessing first hand. Everyone who came up to you spoke in English, and wasn't just wondering about who you were and where you were from, but was trying to get you to buy something from them, or give something to them. They even sold in large bags, the candies the kids were begging for. Talk about a supply and demand situation.
All in all it was more eye-opening than enjoyable. The vast majority of the tourists we were travelling with were respectful, however there were the handful who were completely ignorant and in some cases outright offensive to the locals. One man carried an open bottle of beer off the boat with him, into a Muslim village, was walking around without his shirt for nearly the whole time, until I told him he is about to meet the village Alkalo and should, out of respect, clothe himself. They had a replica of a slave boat in the museum we visited. We were asked outright not to climb onboard, that didn't stop them in anyway, and as we were leaving, we noticed a large contingent of children surrounding the two. It occurred to us immediatley that, again although being asked not to give the kids anything, but to place candies, books, pencils, whatever we had into a communal collection to be given out to the children at a later time... this both to ensure fairness, and to discourage children from skipping school everytime a Toubab boat pulls in, that these two people were handing out candies to each of the children. At one point, one of the guides took a handful from the woman and placed them in the collection. As they were at the edge of the village, a persistent girl who had stayed with them to this point was rewarded with a candy. She ran back towards us, and her two friends, showing it off. I'm reasonably certain she would have been beaten up by the other girls over this small candy. Glad we Toubabs are so generous!
It just made me really disappointed at this culture of 'gotta go to Africa, gotta see the poor black kids, gotta make them love me by giving trinkets and candy so I feel better inside. These people have now 'seen' the real African village, and can go back to their 4 and 5 star hotels completely satisfied they made the world a better place by spending 15 minutes with less advantaged people. It made me not want to ever be that 'tourist' again.
After spending about 1.5 hrs in Juffreh, they took us across the water to Fort James Island. This was the staging ground for the West African slave trade. Boats would arrive from England and Europe, unload cargo, load up with slaves, who had been led to Juffreh by captors, and sold by traders, then loaded onto the slave boat to go to the Americas. The island we saw was only about 1/6 of it's original size, it is being lost into the sea by tidal erosion. We were able to walk around the remaining ruins a bit, and get a sense of how cramped and unbelievably crowded the spaces these people were crammed into actually are. It gave me pause to think of some of the atrocities we have committed in our drive to success.
We then returned to the boat for our trip back to Banjul. Along the way we were treated to seeing some dolphins swimming in the river. A few came withing 150 feet of our boat. It was a nice ending to the day.
I think, above all else, what I gained from the trip today was a realization about how narrow minded we can be, and how incomplete our understanding of the world really is.
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