Monkey Stew?

Friday, June 10

It started with a phone call just after lunch.
“Hi Julie, I’m going to a village do you want to come?” was all I could pick out through the accent.
“YES!” I replied to Jesse, the young animal science lecturer who has been charged as my primary guide to Njala’s animal science department.
“I will pick you up.” (click)

After going through the usual routine of applying sunscreen and bug spray, filling up the Nalgene bottle, grabbing my notebook and camera, Jesse arrived on his motorbike. We stopped by his house to pick up a helmet for me and a heavy jacket for him “for the cool air and dust.” Still not knowing the details of where we were going and why, (though I assumed it was for a farm tour) I knew it was out of the usual community as this was the first time a helmet was required “for safety.”

The little I could gather from the conversation in between the bumps and wind through my helmet was “typical village” and “bush meat.” With a little further inquiry, Jesse informed me that we were going to a village that is accessible by motorbike and sometimes vehicle, though with many villages like this one the only avenue is by foot.
We started on our way going on the same bumpy road in the direction of Mano. We stopped at the same roadside village where Emkay and I purchased mangos, but Jesse had a friend on the other side where he purchased a pineapple for me earlier that week. Jesse informed him we would be back through to buy some more. The little old man was quite excited.

On the main road were the typical potholes, but a little further past Mano we encountered a few low places completely covered in water. Twice Jesse asked me to walk around while he rode the motorbike across because he was uncertain of the depth. After nearly 45 minutes on the main road, we turned left onto a side road for a while and then right onto an even more desolate path. Over two small makeshift bridges of 2x10s and logs and up a hill we finally arrived at our destinations…well, almost. We were met by a few children and young girls (most without tops…but remember that is OK here). The bike was left by a small hut next to a slash and burn rice field and piles of cut lumber.

The kids led the way to the village. I often caught their eyes on my white skin and their smiles of excitement to have visitors. We walked on a narrow path through the bush, which is the closest thing to a jungle I have ever seen. Upon coming to a low stream, they wanted us to cross. I was willing in my sandals, but Jesse insisted they find us a bridge. So, we crossed over three small logs.

Up a hill and not much further was a clearing…and there it sat—Gambia, a little village tucked away peacefully in the bush. I followed Jesse into the village. We met a few people, and I was able to greet, ask for names and give my own using Mende…which made each person young and old laugh in delight. Soon, I was sitting on a “traditional bench” of bamboo and couldn’t understand the chatter around me as Jesse left with a few men. When he returned we were heading to leave, but were stopped by another curious group. A sweet woman called me her friend and posed for a photo.

We spent only 15 or 20 minutes and after saying “malo weh” (goodbye) we were on our way out—this time will a larger following, plus a man with a yellow sack with a few blood stains on his head. Upon reaching the bike the man with the sack exposed its contents dumping a MONKEY and a SMALL ANTELOPE! Hello, bush meat—and this is what we came for. Jesse secured the goods on the back of the bike in a sack, more goodbyes and we were off to Njala. He informed me that guns were outlawed after the war, which shot down my hopes of doing a little hunting myself.

We stopped by the old man’s home along the way to pick up the pineapples and mango. I was silly for thinking we’ll just grab one or two…but this is Africa…home to people who love to give. Jesse purchased at least 6 or 7, placed them in a bag for me to handle. PLUS a small sack of mangos. So, there we were on the motorbike with 7 miles left to travel: mangos, Jesse, pineapples, me, bush meat. Praise the Lord we made it back safely.

Jesse said he would bring bush meat soup and sweet potatoes over for breakfast the next morning. DELICISOUS. One of the best meals thus far.

He mentioned we may get to pick up bush meat again…I think I will hold him to his word.

Joyful Journeys,

Julie