Saturday

For those of you who like to know, today's weather is hot and hazy with hot, dry breezes. The temperature in the shade at 5 pm was 104 degrees.



I often think that if I were to fall into a coma and awaken suddenly on a Saturday morning here in Ndungu Kebbeh I would know immediately that it was Saturday. Saturday is market day in NK so the road outside my living room window gets busy early. The horse and donkey carts trot by with their bells jingling while passengers call out greetings to those on other carts and in the doorways of compounds they pass. Carts are piled high with goods to be sold and people dressed in beautiful outfits. The day is a social event as much as it is about buying and selling. Mopeds, motorcycles and bicycles also join the parade. Ladies from nearby villages save themselves the fare and walk, often with a tub or bucket of goods on their heads. A Peace Corp volunteer living in a nearby village pedals by, but slows at the gate of our compound. The market is another kilometer, but he will park his bike here where our guards will keep an eye on it and continue on foot.

Of course, the sounds of Saturday are also different because the children in the government schools are off. On school days, the road is filled will children on their way to school. Saturdays are school days for the children enrolled in the Arabic school right next door to our compound. We can hear them reciting throughout the morning.

Children of all ages will head for the market if they can. Small children this far outside of town might not go, but it depends on how strict their parents are and if they have older siblings who are going. Small children wander quite freely here. It is not uncommon to see a 3-4 year-old wandering down the road alone. If someone gives him a dalasi (the basic unit of Gambian money- 1 equals about 5 cents), the child will go to the corner store by himself and buy some candy. Sometimes a mother will even send a small child on errands to nearby neighbors or shops.

The kids in this picture are just playing in the road as the carts go by. They probably haven't convinced their mother to let them go to the luma yet. Many kids, girls especially, hustle to the market early to see if someone will hire them to sell for the day. If they're hired, they will take a large metal plate, put some merchandise on it and wander around the market calling for people to buy. Often they are selling snacks- oranges, mangos, roasted cashew nuts or peanuts, bags of cold water, frozen juice in a bag, fried dough balls. I would show you pictures of the luma itself, but that would mean I have to go there. Sorry. Luma to me is like the mall at Christmas (only hot, dirty, crowded and smelly). Some people love the mall at Christmas; others hate it. Some missionaries love the luma (market); others hate it. I guess you can tell where I land. About once a year I end up having to go to luma. I'm thinking I should go soon, but I don't want to. I need to buy some material to have another outfit made, but I'm trying to decide who I can talk into going and buying the material for me. I know one of my Gambian friends would do it, but I need to ask someone who will buy something good. I'll let you know how that works out.