On a Time Diet

We're now back in KanKan after an exhausting voyage from Labe. With the price of fuel rising there's not much traffic between Labe and Kankan. We waited at the taxi park from 8am to 7:30p.m. for the car to fill up. Once 9 people have bought tickets (the cars here fit 7 comfortably), the baggage is attached to the top of the car, the driver gets gas and then the trip begins. You can imagine the frustration of not knowing exactly when you'll be leaving. We got used to it when we were here before and we've grown accostomed to it again. I've had some long waits in the past but I don't think I've ever eaten breakfast, lunch, AND dinner at the taxi park. This would be the equivalent of eating three meals at the Greyhound station. Not advisable. So I began the 12 hour ride with a stomach ache. The part that bothers me the most about such a long wait is that it usually means you have to travel through the night. This makes me nervous to say the least. Our driver seemed tired and rushed. There are a lot of potholes and torn up asphalt on the highway here and while most drivers navigate these roadblocks carefully, this guy went full speed ahead. He stopped in a town an hour from Kankan to sleep for an hour and we arrived in Kankan at 7 in the morning. I almost kissed the ground when we got out. This is the type of travel experience that one might chalk up to bad luck (though with a happy ending). It's seeming more and more, though, like the norm. Our trip from Conakry to Labe took 24 hours. We spent eight of those hours on the side of the road waiting for the driver to find a new car for us. And then there's the gas fumes. Charlie can tell you all about that. We've packed so much travel into these last 7 months that I think we've gotten a pretty accurate picture of the current state of travel here. It's not looking good.


We're now in our last three weeks in Guinea. In that time we've got three taxi trips left. Kankan to Kerouane, Kerouane to Kankan, and Kankan to Conakry. Exhausting but doable. The goodbyes sound a lot worse. Tomorrow we're off to Kerouane for our two-week goodbye there. Saying goodbye to children is never easy. I can't imagine what they must think- here are these two crazy foreigners who show up one day out of thin air. And then they leave. I wish I could make them understand how much they'll be missed.


All of a sudden it feels like there's so much to do in such a small amount of time. For the first time here we've got lists. Lots of them. There are things to take care of in Kankan, Kerouane, and Conakry. And we're now on a strict schedule. We tend to be quite liberal with our time. A two-week trip to Kerouane can easily morph into three weeks. It just takes little Max looking up at me and asking me to stay. He's got our number for sure. But now we're on a time diet. It feels painful already. We've got so much to do here in Kankan and yet we know we've got to get in a taxi tomorrow if we want to spend two weeks with the family.

I always fool myself into thinking that the last few days or weeks somewhere will be normal. It never is. The idea of leaving a place seems to hang in the air, changing the smallest of interactions. Matt and I are now talking about our time here in ways we haven't before. We're already looking back at what we've learned, what we'd do differently and what we're proud of. It's an odd thing. I'm trying to prepare myself for this phenomenon in Kerouane.

We said goodbye to Matt's host mom Nene Delanda in Lelouma and it went well. Nene is an amazing woman. She has six adult children and they're all living outside of Guinea. She's familiar with goodbyes and handles them quite well. We've been fortunate to spend so much time with her. Matt and I feel satisfied with our visit. It seems Nene feels the same. This made for a pretty upbeat goodbye. We both know that we'll do our best to come back to see her.

Matt's host brother, Nene's son who lives in Senegal, surprised us with a visit while we were in Lelouma. We've been trying to coordinate seeing him since we got to west Africa. He works a lot, though, and wasn't sure he'd be able to get the time off. We had started to resign ourselves to the fact that we wouldn't get to see him. So it was quite a surprise when he showed up at Nene's gate one evening, straight out of a bush taxi. We were all overjoyed. Nene cried. She hadn't seen her son in over 6 years. The reunion turned out to be an odd one for us. We're still trying to process it. We had looked so forward to seeing this person again and when we did it was clear that things had changed between us. Things aren't easy for young men here. Unemployment is very high and the cost of living is rising everyday. It's easy to take advantage of employees, people who *do* have jobs and want to cling to them. All this to say, Matt's brother is working hard and feeling frustrated. We've seen all kinds of responses to the situation here. His was extreme. He is angry. It seems logical that it would be easy to direct his anger at us, two people who are able to do things that he feels he can't (travel abroad, get a college education, help Nene out with money). None of this seems fair to him. And it's not. There's so much that's not fair. I'll leave it at that. You can imagine the rest. It was an uncomfortable week with him. Luckily, we had a lot of time with Nene and our friends in Lelouma. And of course, we got to hike.

Here are some photos of our time in Lelouma.

Matt and his host brother at Nene's house

One of our favorite places to hike in Lelouma. This is a giant waterfall. We saw a ton of wild monkeys playing in the tress and crossing the top of the waterfall. We went crazy taking photos of them. I'll try to post those photos when we get back from Kerouane.

Matt and me playing backgammon across from the waterfall

Matt and his host brother planting corn in Nene's garden. We were in Lelouma for the first big rain of the season. The day after, everyone in town plants corn. Everyone just knows. The market was virtually closed that day. Everyone was at home in the garden.

Matt and his host brother

Nene planting corn

For now, we're off to pack for our trip tomorrow. We're excited to give the family the giant backgammon board that Matt had made by a carpenter here. It's so big it can't be packed. We'll have to sit with it on our laps in the taxi.

We hope you're all well. Despite being focused on all these goodbyes, we're counting down the days until we reunite with all of you.