|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||||||||
| Conakry, the capital | ||||||||||||
| Homepage | ||||||||||||
| When the guide books say that there are roads in Conakry, they mostly lie.� There are dirt tracks, albeit large ones. No sooner had I left the airport when I found myself in a cluster of beaten up old cars at least 6 deep in every direction.� Bear in mind, there are no real roads, no road signs, no road lights, no particular rules of the road, in fact it doesn't appear to matter which side of the 'road' you drive on, people will still beep the horn repeatedly and enthusiastically.� As if this isn't bad enough you have people walking every which way through the traffic.� The only lights to be seen were the headlights of cars, there is not a street light, or light from a house to be seen, it's pure black.�� The lights of cars are quickly drowned by the thick dust from the red dirt roads and the people darting between the cars are merely shadows through the dust. The 'houses' are tiny concrete structures (think of the worst-made garden shed you have ever seen) with bare grey walls and corrugated iron flat roofs.� This is not a city, it's an immense sprawling shanty town, and this is the capital?� Shops in the suburbs aren?t buildings, they aren?t signed expect for a piece of wood leaning against a wall, or something badly painted on the concrete walls and are lighted by a candle in the doorway (sometimes).� | ||||||||||||
| It struck me as bizarre to see so many people just walking along the sides of the 'roads', I must have seen thousands of people, taking up every spare inch of room not occupied by a car or hut, or congregating at the edge of the road around a bonfire in an oil drum (clearly 32 degrees at 9 o'clock at night isn't hot enough for them and apparently not enough thick dust and smoke either).� Initially I wondered what the hell they were all doing, but if you lived in a small dark hut with no lights and if you were in an area where there were no leisure activities to occupy you, then there is a good chance that you would be hanging around the side of the road too. | ||||||||||||
| Walking along the streets of Conakry isn't a pleasant experience either. The oppressive heat, the overcrowding, the filthy conditions make it bad enough, in addition you also have the mentality of Guineans who think that white people have lots of money. (Which is not entirely untrue compared to how much they earn.) Whenever they see a 'tubabou' they try to sell things or beg for money in a shameless and aggressive manner. One afternoon we stopped to get bite to eat to take with us, the driver had to park the car a little further down the street while we waited. In the minute it took us to get from the sandwich shop back to the truck (moving quickly) we had acquired an entourage of about 5 beggars and several street traders hocking bits and pieces. Even in a stopped vehicle, if you are near a market, it will only take a few seconds for the car to become surrounded by vendors who press their wares against the windows or poke them in to the car if they find an open window. When you start to pull off, some will continue to run alongside the car, waving their goods and angrily shouting their prices, giving the alarming impression that you are somehow in the wrong for not giving them money. It's hard to tell when the people here will turn on you - scratch or kick in the side of the car. It hasn't happened yet, but several times I have the feeling that there is resentment bubbling just beneath the surface, even towards aid workers. In the cities not everyone understands who's here to help and who's not. They see white people in� 4x4's who have money, shoes and clothes when they themselves are poor, hungry, live in hovels and don't have access to basic services. It isn't surprising if they resent us. | ||||||||||||
| Homepage | ||||||||||||