“Thanks.”
“Long journey?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Then let’s go to the car,” Haddy said before she turned to a man and instructed him to bring Andrew’s bags. “It will take us about forty-five minutes to reach your house. You must be tired. Are you hungry?”
“I’m okay.”
Stepping towards the parking lot, Andrew watched cars dashing frantically towards any open space as newly arrived passengers loaded their baggage. Horns sounded at a dizzying pace. Police officers blew whistles to control traffic. The sun, though setting, still radiated heat. Staring down at him was a giant billboard advertising the country’s beaches, with a picture of a smiling man in white clothing who Andrew knew was the country’s president. “WELCOME TO THE GAMBIA – THE SMILING COAST,” it said.
Andrew could barely hear Haddy as they walked through the crowd. Besides the noise and commotion around him, Haddy also had an accent. Not too thick, but enough that Andrew, being tired, had to concentrate on what she was saying. He didn’t understand everything, but was too embarrassed to ask her to repeat herself. She introduced him to the driver but he didn’t catch his name.
They got into the car and left the airport with the windows down. There wasn’t any air conditioning and the car quickly filled with heavy, humid air. Andrew reached for his seatbelt only to discover there wasn’t one.
Staring through the windows of the other cars leaving the airport, Andrew saw the continuation of the same animated conversations that filled the arrivals hall and parking lot. People passed mobile phones and treats back and forth between one another. The women’s headdresses were as high as the roofs of the cars. Watching these scenes go by, his excitement building as it sunk in that he had finally arrived, Andrew’s head filled with his parents’ reactions when he first told them he was going to Gambia.
“You’re going where?!” his mother asked from the other end of the phone. “Zambia?”
“No. Gambia,” Andrew corrected. “It’s in West Africa, a small country. It’s actually called The Gambia.”
“You can’t be serious. You’re not actually going to Africa. You have teacher’s college this fall! And you’ve never been anywhere like that!”
“Where’s this coming from?” his father asked. “It’s pretty out of the blue, son.”
He hated being called son.
“But why, Andrew?” His mother sounded desperate to know.
For too many years he’d lived their lives. It’s not that it was a bad life – an upper-middle class, WASP upbringing in a Chicago suburb had its perks. He had things. They vacationed at nice resorts in the Caribbean. College was paid for. His parents didn’t intrude into his personal life, mostly because emotional insight was neither of their strengths. But, they still loved and cared for him and wanted him to have a good life. From the outside, his upbringing was enviable.
“I just don’t understand why you need to go so far away. To Africa,” his mother said, pronouncing Africa with a blend of shock, fear, and distaste. “I won’t be able to sleep for a whole year! You’re not running away from us are you, Andrew?”
“No, Mom. I’m not.”
It was a half-truth. Andrew told himself he wasn’t as much running away as giving himself much-needed space. He was outgrowing the world his parents created for him. When he discovered his placement was in a country with hostile views on homosexuality, he was only slightly deterred. It certainly wasn’t ideal. But the year was never about coming to terms with himself as a gay person. He could handle being in the closet. He just needed to get away.
“Mom, Dad. I’ll be fine.” He tried not to sound exasperated. “I’m going to email you a few things. Why don’t you read them and we can talk again tomorrow, okay? You’ll see what a great opportunity this is for me.”
“Okay, son,” his Dad said. “Bye-bye.” He hung up the phone.
Son. It was a relationship of congratulatory pats on the back and handshakes goodbye.
As the car veered onto the road from the airport, the distance between Andrew and his parents hit him. Reminding himself why he left in the first place, he exhaled and sat back, determined to prove he made the right decision.
“You have the house to yourself for now,” Haddy said as she turned to face him. “Your roommate Alex is upcountry on a trip. He should be back by the weekend. But you’ll learn in Gambia that what should be and what is are not always the same. So better to say he’ll be back in a few days.” She spoke with a disarming smile. Haddy’s phone rang, interrupting her, and for the first time Andrew clearly heard Wolof, the predominant local language.
Haddy’s conversation kept going and at some point during the phone call Andrew tuned out. He sat and stared out the window. It was a two-lane road without any neat end to the pavement on either side. It just sort of fell off unevenly into the dirt. There were no sidewalks either. Instead, people walked on the edge of the road or the dirt next to it, which didn’t provide much more of a buffer. They shared the road with cars Andrew couldn’t believe still functioned. Some looked like they’d been put back together in a scrap metal yard. Speeding past rusted, white mini-vans, he noticed young men hanging off open side doors who appeared to be yelling out to the street. Each glimpse inside a van revealed the same image of bodies tightly packed together, one nearly indistinguishable from the next.
There were also goats, lots of them. Ropes tied some to trees or poles, but others roamed freely. The male ones with huge balls made Andrew laugh to himself.
The road was lined with shops – many looked like convenience stores. Some were in proper buildings. Others were in shacks with a light bulb hanging from a string. The colors of their painted signs were faded, the text was often uneven. An endless line of men sat outside on chairs or benches. Some drank out of bottles, some gathered around small televisions, and some did both.
Traffic increased and they slowed down in an area filled with mechanics and car repair shops. The shops’ equipment spilled onto the deep, brownish red earth by the roadside. They had no formal garages and men and boys of all ages were working there. Loud Afro hip-hop blared in the background. Andrew was struck by the number of young men and boys working – in shirts, tank tops, or bare-chested – covered with dirt and grease. They all had the same lean bodies and defined muscles. Their white eyes popped out from deep-black complexions. As he met their eyes from his window they stared back at him. He mistook their looks of exhaustion and curiosity for suspicion and unfriendliness. The stares unsettled him. Instinctively he went to close the window but stopped himself. Haddy and the driver weren’t fazed at all.
A few of the repair shops had small fires going in steel drums. They all had small tables with rows of old bottles, filled with a strange yellowish liquid.
“What’s in those bottles?”
“Foo-el,” answered Haddy. It took Andrew a second to get past her accent. Fuel.
“Wow. I’ve never seen it sold like that before.”
“We also have proper fuel stations. But this is the old fashioned way.” Haddy turned around. Her face was soft and her smile was warm. “You will see and experience lots of things here that you haven’t before. Have you been to Gambia or Africa before?”
“No.”
“I hope you will love it. We will soon be at your home. The house is not far from our office or the school where you are working. But don’t worry about that now. Tomorrow morning at nine the car will come to pick you up. It will bring you to the office and we’ll go over everything. Tonight you must be very tired.”
He was. Andrew barely slept on the plane, making it two nights in a row. He started taking deep inhales as he struggled to keep his eyes from closing.
Andrew awoke to knocking at the front door. Rubbing his eyes, he peeled himself up slowly from the mattress, unsticking his sweaty face from the pillow. He looked around, only to discover his vision was obstructed. White mesh hung over his bed. Right, the mosquito net. The breeze of th
e fan blowing from the corner of the room reached him but brought little relief. The knocking continued while he took an extra second to regain his bearings before he pushed the net up from the floor to let himself out from his bed.
“Andrew?” called out a voice from the door.
“Coming, I’ll be right there,” he yelled back. He got out of bed realizing he was still dressed in his t-shirt and pants from the night before, and walked to the front door where Haddy waited for him. He squinted as the light flooded the room.
“You’re alive!” she exclaimed while walking in. “You fell asleep in the car last night. We woke you up when we got here. You were barely awake walking into the house. Do you remember?”
“Yeah. Sort of.”
“Okay, well as long as you rested. Today we’ll get you settled.” She spoke and moved in a hurried fashion that he found slightly disorienting.
He stood in a small living room too crowded with furniture, seeing his house in daylight for the first time. An oversized, brown couch and sitting chair with felt-like material that looked like a velvet knockoff. The walls and floors were mostly a faded tan color. Behind Haddy, outside, he could see an older woman walking through a yard with a bucket. Unlike Haddy, who dressed in jeans, this woman was more traditionally dressed. She was walking around the base of a tree picking things up from the ground and placing them in her bucket. Suddenly, Andrew realized Haddy was talking to him.
“...I think this is a good schedule for today.”
“Uh, yeah.”
Haddy turned and also noticed the woman in the yard, called out to her in Wolof and turned to Andrew. “This is your maid, Isatou. She lives next door and we’ve been using her for some time now in this house. She’s quite familiar with everything you will need.”
“I have a maid?” Andrew asked as he wondered to himself what he might need.
“Of course! You need a maid. Isatou will do all your cleaning and laundry. And if you want her to cook for you just ask her and she will.”
Isatou timidly walked to the front door, stood in the entranceway, but didn’t come in. Her face was mature but her skin was smooth, camouflaging her age – somewhere between forty and fifty? She wore what looked like a long skirt wrapped around her, a plain, loose-fitting t-shirt, and a green headdress. Haddy introduced them. Andrew wasn’t sure if he should shake her hand or not, so he just waved from across the living room.
“I’m Andrew.”
“Hi. Nice to meet you. My name is Isatou.” She spoke slowly and deliberately, in a much heavier accent than Haddy.
“If you have trouble understanding each other,” Haddy said, “you can always bring one of Isatou’s daughters over. Their English is better. Right Isatou?”
“Yes.”
Haddy quickly followed up in Wolof, laughing as she spoke to Isatou, who only smiled and nodded in response.
“Okay?” Haddy asked, turning to Andrew.
“Yes, sounds great.”
After a short silence Haddy gazed at Isatou, who gently waved goodbye and went back to gather her bucket.
“What’s she picking up?” Andrew asked Haddy.
“Mangoes.”
Oh yeah, Andrew recalled, remembering his info packet mentioned the mango trees outside.
Haddy let Andrew know she’d come back in a few hours to pick him up and get him sorted with some paperwork at the office. In the meantime, he could unpack and settle in. There should be some food in the kitchen, but just in case she brought him some bread, jam, and bananas. The house didn’t have hot water, but it was so hot outside that the water in the pipes was warm enough to keep showers pleasant.
“Okay,” Andrew said, hoping he hid his disappointment. No hot water?
“Isatou only stopped by to get some mangoes – she normally helps herself. If you need her she’s in the compound next door,” Haddy added, picking up her purse to leave.
Andrew didn’t know what a compound meant. Did he live in a compound?
“See you soon. Enjoy your new home!” she said before walking outside, leaving the front door open.
With Haddy gone, Andrew just stood there, alone. He looked around at his strange surroundings suspiciously.
He stepped outside to survey the grassy yard. The solid black gate was imposing, and nearly double his height. On either side, thick walls obstructed Andrew’s view to the outside. Turning his gaze to the yard, he realized that he hadn’t seen mango trees before. They were large and incredibly lush. The branches extended wide revealing too many green and red mangoes hanging between the leaves to count, with many more on the ground. A clothesline with bed sheets hung between two trees. In the middle, a lone standpipe rested against the front of the house; owing to a rusted spout, its working order was doubtful.
Walking over to the gate, he peered through a crack, discovering his house was just off a main road. Female voices carried up from behind him. When he turned to see an empty yard and the jutting walls that enclosed it, he realized it must have been coming from Isatou’s compound.
Andrew looked at his watch and saw it was still on Chicago time. He thought about his family back home. They were probably sleeping.
Back in the house, Andrew peeked into the cramped and nearly empty kitchen. Alex’s room was the same as his, but with clothes strewn on the bed and floor, and his closet left open. Andrew had an aversion to mess.
He lugged his suitcases into his room and unpacked, ordering everything. While unpacking, Andrew noticed how silent it was. Normally at home he or his sister Lindsay would have music or a television on. He thought about calling her but didn’t have a working phone. He thought of emailing but didn’t have internet access either. Standing above his half-empty suitcase, Andrew’s mind returned to the drive from the airport and how he’d been unsettled; it looked stranger, more foreign than he expected. Growing anxious, he examined the unfamiliar bed, the beige wall with chipped paint around the window. Not wanting his mind to fill with unhelpful thoughts, he refocused on unpacking and wondered when Haddy would come back.
When he finished, he had nowhere to go and no one to speak to. The table next to his bed was empty save for the journal his sister gave him. Deciding to give it a try, he picked it up and took it to the front stoop of the house, sat for a second, and started to write.
Haddy eventually returned and brought him to their small office where he completed the requisite paperwork. He also got a SIM card to get his phone working, and the internet for his computer, both of which made him feel less far away from home. Haddy also said she’d heard from Alex, who was coming back early and should arrive home by the evening. Before leaving, Andrew used one of the office computers to write an email to his family.
Dear Mom, Dad, and Linds,
Just wanted to let you all know that I’ve arrived safely. The flights were long. I was picked up at the airport just like they said. The airport was literally one big room basically and we were the only plane there. Apparently it gets more crowded when tourists start arriving, which happens later in the fall. I slept well last night – so well that I first fell asleep in the car to my new house. The house is nice, and mom don’t worry – it’s tidy, and we have a maid to keep it clean. Haven’t met the person I live with yet, but am supposed to later today. Gotta go now but wanted to let you know I’m safe and I’ll call you soon. I have a phone number. It’s 220-354-5338. I don’t know if you need to dial anything special first though.
Love,
Andrew
There was more he wanted to say but didn’t. He thought of writing a separate email to his sister admitting his apprehensions about the move but didn’t do that either. What had he expected, really? He remembered why he was there, put on a brave face, and pressed send.
Alex came home shortly after Haddy dropped Andrew off. He was unshaven and wearing comfortable clothing well-suited to the climate. He projected the aura of someone completely at ease, which made Andrew instantly feel more relaxed. The confidence, or maybe it was nor
malcy, that Alex projected was reassuring.
“Hey! You must be Andrew. I’m Alex.” He extended his hand and smiled, revealing noticeably white teeth. He had messy brown hair and was of average height and build, especially when standing next to Andrew.
Andrew was tall and thin. Some mistook his thinness for lankiness, but it was more that he was lean. His jaw was quite pronounced, giving his face a certain stature and presence. He was handsome, with dirty-blond hair, blue eyes, and eyebrows disproportionately bushy for a face otherwise largely unable to grow hair. Even though he was never really good at sports, he had the body of an athlete, resembling someone who did long-distance running or played basketball and soccer.
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
“When did you arrive? Today?”
“No. Yesterday. In the evening.”
“Oh great. Welcome, I’m sure it’s all a bit disorienting. I remember when I got here.” He paused, smirking. “Where are you from?”
“Chicago. Well, just outside it. You?”
“Miami. Did you just graduate? Where’d you go to college?”
“In Illinois. You?”
“Georgetown. But I graduated last year. I was in South Africa for six months and then came to Gambia in January.”
“Oh, cool. What were you doing in South Africa?”
“Same deal, an internship in development. It was great, South Africa’s awesome. But I studied development aid and wanted to be in a place a bit more off the grid.”
“And?”
“Let’s just say, this is more the type of place I had in mind.”
“It’s that bad here?” Andrew asked, immediately second-guessing his choice of words, worried it made him sound insensitive or ignorant.
The Order of Nature Page 2