Nigeria vs. Guinea-Bissau…. No its not a soccer game

 I think the nature of the rain in Guinea Bissau explains very well the political/social nature of the country. Everything is fine (sunny) and normal until suddenly, out of nowhere something crazy happens (rain).

            I though my excitement for the day was going to be the car accident I almost got into while riding in a Taxi. I was coming back from the Governer’s Palace and the car on our right started to cut us of, so much so that the taxi driver had to veer off the road on to the side walk where he almost hit an elderly man and his grandson.  Passerbys came running to the car yelling at the taxi driver for what he had done. He got out of the car and spent 10 minutes apologizing and explaining that he got cut off. A crowd had formed and it became quite a spectacle, but eventually they pardoned him and we were on our way.

            Later down the road I hopped out of the taxi and stopped by the office of the Environmental Agency that was writing the environmental study for the solar project my company is doing.  One of them had offered to give us a ride into downtown so we could make some copies.  The traffic was horrible and I was anxiously shaking my foot as we sat in traffic.

             I was on a time crunch. My Boss was heading to Dubai and I needed to give him 3 copies of the environmental study and have the writers of the study stamp all 180 pages of each copy. His flight was scheduled at 2pm, he needed to be at the airport at noon, and it was already 11am.

            The road we were on in is a 4 lane road with a big metal divider down the middle. The two lanes on the left go to the airport and the 2 on the right, which we were on, headed to downtown Bissau.

            As we were sitting in traffic, we came to an intersection where I told  the driver, Augusto, to make a right because the road ahead was blocked with more traffic. Our driver usually goes this way if traffic is really bad. He decided against it and followed traffic straight ahead.

            As we continued down the road we notice crowds of people running around, most of them running away from the direction we were going, others just seemed to be running with out direction, but doing so just because every one else was running.

            We looked up ahead noticed that the cars in front of us were all turning around, going the wrong way in traffic. My first response was an insult the “stupid drivers”. What the heck were they doing?? Then we realized there was some kind of problem up ahead.  The entire road up ahead was deserted and we could hear gunshots going off in the background. We followed suit and turned around and that’s when people began throwing rocks and bottles in the air. You could hear them crashing into peoples cars.  It suddenly got really chaotic.

            People started getting out of their cars, which is the worst thing they could have done, because then everyone else was stuck. People were still running around, some running for safely, others running with goods they had stolen from the market during the commotion.

            I called my boss to let him know what was going on.  I tried to sound cool and collected, but I know there was a trace of panic in my voice.  We slowing inched through traffic, keeping our heads down and watching what was going on around us. Military vehicles flew by on our side towards the scene of action.  I felt like I was in a movie!!

            We finally got out of traffic and turned down an alternative road to get to downtown. When we arrived it was as if nothing was going on. It was the normal hustle and bustle of downtown.  

            When I got to my office I felt like I was coming back from war! My boss had called the assistant to the prime minister and asked what was going on.

So what happened??

            First you have to understand that there is no boarder control here.  So if the scum of the earth walks up to the boarder, they can walk right in to the country, no questions asked.
            So several Nigerians have been kidnapping and killing young children and selling their organs.  The Guinean government finally caught hold of the trend and tightened security on the roads. Some military officials pulled over a car which happened to have children in it! A fight broke out with led to a shoot out of sorts.

My boss ended the  explanation with,” Im sure it was crazy, but its not too serious. We thought it was going to be a Military vs Politician battle, which is way worse for the country. This will pass over in a couple of days. ” Then I received several txts from friends saying to stay away from Bandim Market because its not safe. HA! I was just in the middle of it!!

              Bandim market is the cities largest market in Bissau, so alot of people I know happened to be in that place at that time as well.  That night when I stopped by my neighbor’s house to say hi, everyone was laughing and sharing the stories of where they were at the time it all went down:

- My step dad ran into an office building and hid under a desk.

- Tia M’boby who unfortunately had diarrhea at the time, talked her way onto an ambulance and got a   

   ride all the way home from them.

- Another neighbor was running in the crowd, but was explaining her confusion because people were 

   running in all different directions, so she didn’t know which way was away from danger.

It was hilarious! But at the time it was far from it. I kept saying how crazy it was and everyone just shrugged it off. They told me, “ You get used to it!” You can get used to waking up early, you can even get used to spicy food, but this?! Impossible. 

Sorry I got your daughter pregnant… Ceremony

I probably laughed for half an hour after hearing about this. I would have never thought there was a formal ceremony for asking forgiveness from an impregnated girl/woman’s parents!  But it’s real!!

            The Feirra family was my neighbor before I moved into my uncle’s house the next street over.  They have become like extended family to me. There is Tio ( Uncle ) Yano and Tia (Aunt) M’boby and they have 3 children named Ruben, Hilha, and Nuh. Hilha is the middle child and she has become a great friend of mine. Nuh is the youngest and she lives with her aunt on the other side of town. Ruben, the oldest, is 28 or 29 now and getting ready to start a family.

            After 3 years of being with his girlfriend, Ruben got her pregnant. I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend until she had been living with him at his parent house. After a month of seeing her around I finally I asked who she was and they explained the situation. When I asked why she was living at their house they said that the financial situation at her house is fragile, and there are often times where there is nothing to eat. At least at Ruben’s house she would always have a meal to feed herself and her growing baby.

            Since he got her pregnant out of wedlock, there is a traditional ceremony that is done to ask for forgiveness from the parents of the girl. Ok, so its not actually called “Sorry I got your daughter pregnant Ceremony”, but that’s essentially what it boils down to. It’s called “Ceremonia de Leba Cabas” or “ Gourd Delivery Ceremony.”  

            And it’s exactly that! The mother of the boy, in this case Tia M’boby bought a gourd and Ruben filled the gourd with drinks (both alcoholic and non-alcholoic) in pairs which represent the union between him and his girlfriend, N’ten.  He also put in some money, several buttons and thread, some cigars, and other small nick-nacks.

            Each item has its own meaning. The cigars are surprisingly for Rubens dad. In the event that Ruben’s dad goes to visit N’tens family, they will have cigars at the house to offer him. The buttons and thread are for N’ten to have if Rubens clothes ever need to get fixed.  

            On Saturday they had the  “Leba Cabase” Ceremony.  N’ten took this cabas filled with things that Ruben had bought and presented it to her family. Ruben’s family sent friends, neighbors and other family members to represent them at N’tens house which was filled with her extended family, friends, and neighbors for the arrival of the cabas.  

            The opening of the ceremony was a presentation of Rubens family and the cabas they had brought. They opened the cabas, which was tried by a traditional cloth, and presented the contents to the attendees. After the cabas was unloaded N’tens family presented their “wish list” to Ruben’s representatives.  The list was read allowed and included things like money, alcohol, candy, a goat, cigarettes, and things along these lines.

            After Ruben’s representatives were presented the list, they were given some time to discuss the contents of the list with N’tens step-mom. N’ten’s mother was present, but didn’t say a word the entire time. Everything was done by her combossa ( her husbands other wife /N’tens step-mom ).  N’tens dad was not present because he is currently in Portugal, but he did send his own “wish list” for the ceremony.

            N’tens family was asking for a lot of money! Almost 1,000 USD, which is a lot in a place where a schoolteacher makes 200 dollars a month. After lots of negotiation, Rubens family was able to bring their demands down to 600 dollars. I thought the money was for N’tens family, that they were just going to use it as they wanted. But the money they are asking for is actually for N’ten, so they can buy her a bed and other household items since she is getting married. I asked how they know her family wont just spend all the money on themselves. Tia M’boby explained they would have to answer to N’ten for that. If they spend it all that would leave her with nothing once she gets married.

            Once all negotiations were settled it was grub time! We stayed at N’tens house just to take a bite and not be rude, but the real party for us, Ruben’s representatives, was back at Ruben’s house.

            Back at the house I gave Ruben a big congratulatory hug! I found out he is the huggy intoxicated type that night.  And even though he was drunk or maybe because he was drunk, you could tell he was very proud of where is life was headed. This is his transition into manhood. He has child on the way and a wedding in the near future!

             I asked him why he and his parents didn’t take part in the ceremony. He said they couldn’t! That often when the 2 families are in direct contact some kind of altercation ensues. He didn’t have to explain any further. Hilha got into a little argument with one of N’tens neighbors  about the contents of the cabas and spent the rest of the ceremony outside in fumes. If Tia M’boby had been present I know for a fact something would have gone down. She doesn’t take anything from anybody!

            Usually during the Leba Cabas Ceremony you decide on a wedding date. They set the wedding date fore October 15^th, but its not going to happen. Having a wedding is expensive (personally I think its because of the quantity of beer you are expected to supply)!! Ruben will have to save up enough money first before they can get married. It might be a while….

            Unfortunately this is a dying ceremony.  As the years pass, more and more people are having church weddings, or muslim weddings, or just having kids and not getting married, leaving the grandparents to raise the child.  The feelings are mixed. Some people think it’s important to hold on to tradition. Other’s think it’s these “backward traditions” that is stopping Bissau-Guineans from getting ahead.  Personally I just wish they would stop serving pork so that I could eat something while I’m attending.  

Emergency Situations

                      “Where do people go in the event of emergency medical situations?!” 

This question has plagued my mind recently because I’ve encountered several of them in the past 2 weeks. Now I can’t help but ask everyone I know what they do and where they go in the event that they are sick or have a medical emergency. I’ve been asking out of anthropological curiosity, but also out of hope that if I ever have an emergency health situation I’ll know where to go!

I’m going to share 3 separate health situations that occurred recently to really emphasize how dire the access to decent health care is in Guinea-Bissau.  

Situation Number 1:

            My family and I were eating dinner at the restaurant Papaloca and out of nowhere there was a lot of yelling and screaming happening outside the restaurant. Next thing I knew my step dad moving his car out of its parking spot in front of the restaurant and into the middle of the road.

Artemisia Medical Clinic

            I ran outside and saw that someone had been hit by a car and my step-dad had put his car in the road to stop any oncoming traffic from hitting him (Just days before my neighbors uncle had been hit by a car and ran over repeatedly by other cars. No one stopped driving over him until a passerby pulled out his gun and started shooting it in the air to get the attention of the drivers. The lack of (street) lights at night could have something to do with this). The car that had hit this guy took off and left him lying in the street. He was unconscious and blood was coming out of his ears and mouth, his limbs were bent awkwardly at his side. 

            A crowd began to surround him as folks came to see what happened and tried to decide what to do. The sad reality is that calling the police or an ambulance would be a waste of time. The usual response is that they cannot come because there is no gas in the ambulance to get there.

            Fortunately someone volunteered their car and took him to the hospital. We all wondered if he would make it. The next day on the radio we heard that guy had died. They were looking for someone to come and identify his body.

Situation Number 2:

            A week after getting back from Buba we found out that Abdon, whose restaurant we had stayed at in Buba, had a stroke. He had to drive the 3-4 hours from Buba to get to the military hospital here in Bissau.

            Once in Bissau he spent almost a week in the hospital (just) taking asprin (but apparently that’s what your usually prescribed when you have a stroke).  He had lost sensation in and the ability to control the left side of his body.

            The hospital is a hard place to be because it is everyone’s last resort. When you don’t know what else to do, you go to the hospital.  Lots of beds surrounding Abdon were filled with old sick people who were surrounded by family members either seated on the bed with them or lying on the floor.

Inside the clinic

            At the Hospital they do not provide you with food or water.  Your family or who ever is taking care of you is responsible for brining you food and other things you might need.  So it’s literally like taking care of someone from home, except your at the hospital and not at home.

            When we came to visit Abdon one day we found him trying to cut an onion with his one working arm, the onion being held by his girlfriend. I imagined he wanted to prepare his own food. He is a chief after all.

            There was another day we brought a friend of Abdon’s to come and see him. This guy is a millionaire, so we drove up to the hospital in a very nice SUV. It was early evening and as we drove up we noticed that there were no lights on in the hospital. “There’s no lights at the hospital?! “ I exclaimed. But as we drove through the entrance and found a place to park the entire building became illuminated.

  “Hey! The lights came!” I said in innocent excitement. My sister looked at me and said, “No, we came. ” 

            “What do you mean we came? They only put the lights on because we are here??” I simply could not rap my mind around the fact that all the people in the hospital were lying there in the dark.  

            “Yes,” she said, “They don’t know who we are, but they saw a really expensive car come through the front gates. We could be a minister or someone with influence, so they turned the lights on.”

            When we left all I wondered was if the lights at the hospital left with us. It’s possible the generator is on a timer and we just happened to arrive when the generator was set to turn on. I desperately hope that is the case.

Naveed, my co-worker and his foot

            Anyways, Abdon’s cousin was able to organize enough money to get him to Zigguinchor, Senegal where they have better medical treatment. But the best medical care is in Dakar, so he had to figures out how he would get from Zigguinchor to Dakar. An ambulance ride was 5,000 USD!! An SOS airplane ride was 10,000 USD!!! There is a boat that could take him for 60 bucks, but they wouldn’t let him on the boat in the condition he was in.

            He eventually made it to Dakar and is still there. Its possible he will go to Europe to received further treatment (being part of an international organization, Slow Food, may have saved his life. Not everyone has the luxury of being relocated to a better medical facility).

Situation Number 3:

            When my co-workers from Pakistan got here, one of them had a little cut on his foot. Unfortunately the change in elevation from the plane ride made is foot swell and caused the cut to expand and become irritated. He spent 3 months hopping around from clinic to clinic because his foot would not heal. The humidity in the air was causing some of the problem, but he had also received a prescription for medication that was causing the infection on his food to spread. Finally one day one of my co-workers came to me and said we needed to find another clinic because his foot was getting really bad. What was once a quarter sized infection grew into something the size of a softball. 

            I kept hearing about an Italian Clinic that was supposed to be really expensive, but also really good. The medics are all foreigners, some from Cuba, others from France, some from Italy.  It was a very reassuring site to see.

            They had to call several medics in to look at his foots because they were completely perplexed by what they saw. They called in a dermatologist (who only happens to be in Bissau because her husband is in the Guinean government) to see if she could figure out what was going on. The dermatologist spoke French to another doctor who translated to me in Portuguese what I needed to translate to my co-worker in English so he could translate to my other co-worker with the infected foot in Urdu, one of the many languages in Pakistan.  It was quite a process, but eventually all relevant information was shared.

            Thankfully the treatment the dermatologist gave him completely cleared his foot of the fungus and infection.

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            So I started to wonder, in the case of an emergency, what would I do? I have maybe enough money saved to catch a flight to Dakar, but not enough to pay for medical fees in Dakar. This Italian clinic is the closest I’ve seen to anything in the United States.  But there is a catch, the director of this Italian clinic is a registered nurse, not a doctor. Not to knock the qualifications of nurses, but I was recently told she has been prone to making mistakes and incorrect diagnoses.

            It’s kind of scary if you think about it too much. Anything can happen and it’s difficult to know where you will find quality and qualified medics. And there is also no system in place nor equipment available to deal with urgent medical emergencies. You almost have to find a doctor that you have come to trust and consider qualified and create a personal relationship with them so that you can call them whenever you might need. Surprisingly this is what many people ( who can afford it) do.