In Which We (Don't) Bless The Rains Down In Africa
on Zoe Page (Sierra Leone), 26/Sep/2010 20:42, 34 days ago
It’s raining when I get up but I still want pancakes so head out up the road to Doorway, a restaurant/nightclub across from VSO. It’s kinda loud as I approach, so I wonder if it’s still in club mode, but as I walk in I find a bunch of staff lining up chairs into neat rows. I ask about breakfastbut pretty much know the answer. They aren’t serving today, but would I like to come back at 9am for the service? That’s right, this is a restaurant/nightclub/church... I walk back in the rain, accompanied by a member of the church who preaches the entire way. If he didn’t have a massive golfumbrella, I’d have run off and left him within the first 10 seconds. Although it’s not a given that I’m Christian (60% of the population here are Muslim) I decide it’s easier to play along. And anyway, in answer to the question, “Have you ever been to church?” I can truthfully say yes. Since I’m no longer in TEFL mode, I don’t tell him he should be using the ‘Do you go...?’ construction instead.Back at Raza, I have toast and juice, with a side of Lariam, and then try to figure out what to do for the day. I decide to go for a walk as my guide book suggests a taxi into town isn’t worth it on a Sunday. While Tash and Alex later confirm it’s right about that, it’s wrong about a whole ton of things. Like where shops and restaurants are, and even which roads run in which direction. I guess when there’s no competition, you don’t need to check and double check your facts, or update when things change. Ignoring the book in favour of aimless wandering with vague recollection of yesterday’s route, I walk on in the now heavy rain, and stop to buy an umbrella. They are priced not based on their size or functionality, but in direct proportion to their attractiveness. While I could get a lurid green, pink or purple flowered thing for under 2 quid, I pay a little more to get a blue checked one which is semi-ok, and absolutely massive. It'll be a bit of a pain to lug round, but should keep the rain off.I get to Bliss Patisserie, which was not the one I was aiming for, but which will do, and go in. The menu is massive and I want pretty much everything on it. Owned by a Lebanese couple, favoured by expats (and me, now I’ve seen the menu and their free stash of Newsweeks), it offers everything from humous and roasted veg wraps to Nutella crepes and ice cream sundaes. Since it’s just gone 11am, I decide to have a late Lebanese breakfast and call in lunch. The prices may be on the high side, but the portions aremassive, and I tuck into a random assortment of olives, cucumber, spring onions, cheese, a sort of bread/pastry hybrid with a pesto-style topping, Arabic bread, butter and jam.Back on the road and in the rain I decide to continue to make a (rather long) loop back, down to Lumley roundabout, up the beach road and back to the hotel. Along the way I successfully dodge beggars (who don’t look like beggars from a distance, but quickly morph into them when the White Woman appears), children and quite a few men who want to ‘be my friend’ and/or share my umbrella. I even meet a nice policeman who gives me a very formal ‘Good Morning’ from his Portacabin police station on the beach. Ok, it’s afternoon by this point but let’s not be picky.Up the beach road a taxi has crashed into a 4WD and there’s a massive argument going on about whose fault it is. Even though I didn’t see it happen, I’m inclined to blame the taxi since paying attention to the road is probably the thing they do least here, in favour of honking their horns.Reasons Why Freetown Cabbies Beep Their Horn1.      To tell you they’ve got room if you want a lift2.      To tell you they’re full (and proud of it?)3.      To tell you to get the hell out of the road4.      To tell you you’re hot (hissing, the general method for this here, wouldn’t work so well through closed windows)5.      To tell you to stay right where you are, so they can swerve over onto the wrong side of the road just to splash you with the muddy waterUp past Chez Nous I follow our new detour behind the helipad and through a rather muddy path that is lined with adorable children who call out‘Hello’ and giggle like crazy when you smile and say hello back. This is also the place to go to see super cute newborn chicks, just tottering around the grass. The random wildlife here is incredible. Within a 10 minute walk of my hotel I can see tiny kittens, numerous stray dogs, a goat, a ram, lizzards, hens, chickens and all manner of unidentifiable wildfowl. I’m clearly getting used to it, though: today the only thing that makes me take note is when I see two dogs actually on leads.Later on, Cheryl and I head out to Paddy’s, the bar that was evidently the inspiration forthatscene in Blood Diamond. It’s also the source of all our stress at night as the music can be heard well into breakfast time. At 5.30pm it’s a little dead. We decide to order take out which takes over an hour to be ready and, when it comes, is at a completely invented price. My pizza looks like it’s anything but, but ifI don’t look at it, it tastes ace, and leads me to the completion of my first day without rice since landing here. The sunset is amazing, even if we’re not on the west coast, and as Margaret and Mark, and Tash and Alex all turn up too, we get to catch up on our first day without each other.I come back to pack (since all the others are definitely leaving tomorrow and I may be out of the hotel if nothing else– though I hope if I’m going to Kenema on, say Tues, I can just stay here one more night rather than moving). I also collect my laundry from reception – they’ve done it for me for free, though will be interesting to see what ‘no charge’ translates to on my bill at check out. Having a quick chat with the guy on reception pays off. I tell him about my day (a crazy amount of walking if his expression is anything to go by) and say we’ve just been to Paddy’s. Am I out there tonight? No, but I hope it will be quiet and cool - are we having air con tonight? But of course! I should have said it wasn’t on last night. He will put it on right now.He does and then a few minutes later there’s a knock on my door and one of his friends is there to check it’s working and ask me if I’d like to go out with him tonight... I’m beginning to see that wearing a thin sundress in Freetown is the equivalent of walking along Insurgentes in a skirt of any description, i.e. only to be attempted when you want copious amounts of attention. They’re a pretty persistent bunch here, and it takes a while to get him far enough out of the door for me to shut and lock it. Bars on the windows here may mean the only way out in the event of a fire is through that one door, but there’s no way it’s not staying firmly locked at night.