Three Day Weekend

8/10/2013

It’s incredible that many others and myself had never heard of Gabon before I got this internship. This led me to think about my impressions about Gabon, and I think that, although this might be obvious, anyone reading this blog should remember that these are solely my experiences and thoughts on Gabon.

If I was in France or Spain or someplace where I know a lot of people I know have been to, I wouldn’t be so concerned about this. But sometimes I feel ill at ease because I know that if I say something on this blog, it stands alone in the representation of Gabon in people’s minds. Not to take responsibility off of myself and the way that I write about my time here, but just a reminder to people that I can’t represent or portray Gabon to the fullest extent on here, as I have not experienced Gabon to the fullest extent. In all honesty, trying to write about my experiences here is like trying to explain the color orange to a person who has never seen red before.

I hope I'm not the only one to find this interesting.

This weekend has been a three-day weekend because of the end of Ramadan on Friday. In the US I’d be ecstatic about but in Gamba it’s sort of like, “Okay well now what do I do?” So I ended up taking tons of photos and writing this really long post. The photos from the weekend are going to be mixed in with the writing to make it less boring.

Friday was a sleepy day. I woke up at 7:30, ate breakfast and then got back into bed to do nothing/watch movies until lunch. It’s funny how much time I have on my hands here. Like in the US I’ll forget to trim my nails for like, weeks sometimes because I never have the time to just sit and do nothing. I probably have the most well manicured nails I’ve ever had during my time here because when there isn’t much to do (you can only go on so many walks, and I’m having to ration my movies because I’ve watched almost all of them) I do little things like that. I ran out of books ages ago because I only brought a few, and I have yet to visit the library in Yenzi because it’s only open Monday or Friday for a few hours.

Friday night I went out to the Zoo with Gigi, Perez, Lena, and some of Gigi’s colleagues. The Zoo (I don’t know if it’s actually called that, or if that’s just what we call it) is one of two nightclubs that we go to here. The Zoo is set back from the main road of Gamba in le couloir, or the corridor, named as such because it’s a big haphazard cluster of bars and loud music. There aren’t really sidewalks, just room between buildings made up of sand and broken chunks of concrete. Anyways the Zoo is a small place that the local younger people go to. It doesn’t usually start getting busy unto 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning. It’s approximately the size of the living room, middle room, and kitchen in my apartment in Eugene combined, give or take. It’s always completely dark except for the dance lights. I have never seen another white person there.

Wedding car parade. The yelling and honking was deafening.

I loooove the fabric here. So intricate and unique.

The wall by the dance floor is a mirror, and when I first got here I thought it was really funny because people would just dance in front of the mirror. Now I’m used to it, and I’m also used to the difference in attitude toward dancing here. It’s SO enthusiastic here, and it seems like there’s no self-consciousness. Every one is just doing their thing, even if that’s dancing by themselves in an empty dance floor in front of a mirror. Even when we’re just hanging out at the dorms and playing music and drinking, it’s super common for somebody to just break out these intense dance moves by themselves. I like it.

The second one is bigger, and I don’t like it as much because there are always a lot of lights on and the dance floor is in the middle of the room, and everyone can see you really well, which makes me feel self-conscious. Ex-pats go there, as well as others from Yenzi. It’s an older crowd and the few times I’ve been there I haven’t liked the music as much as the Zoo. But, that being said, it’s more put together and they probably have mixed drinks, which is sort of fancy.

Goats in their goat palace.

One time when we went to the Cameroonian Lady’s Bar, Clayth was like “I’m going to get a gin and tonic.” And I was like “ooh I’d like one as well!” and then she brought out two bottles labeled “Booster” gin and tonic flavor. Euughh. The beer here that I drink is generally Régab, which is a lighter Gabonese beer that is apparently popular with the ex-pats, and Castel. Without fail Gigi and Perez always get Guinness, and Clayth and Lena get whiskey with Coke.

Gateaux

Saturday was sleepy as well (surprise!) and Lena wasn’t feeling well so we sat around Gigi’s room watching TV and being low-key. Later in the afternoon Lena and I got gateaux and la lait caillé. The banana gateaux weren’t ready yet so the lady let us sit with her while she finished making them. Lena asked if she could give the recipes to me, but after she explained it there isn’t really a recipe, it’s all from memory and personal measurements (like a packet of this specific kind of sugar, or a small bowl of this) so I don’t know if I’ll be able to replicate it when I get back. She let me take photos of her making the banana gateaux. She has a nice smile.

Saturday night I went to Belair again (last time was with Thom and his family, I can’t remember if I wrote about that on here though) with Lena and Gigi and Perez for dinner and it was super good, just like last time. Everyone was tired so we just went back to the dorms for movies/sleep. I watched Blues Brothers 2000. So good.

One of the speakers. I don't think he was exactly the pastor because he was mostly singing and was the first guy.

Sunday I went to church with Sylvana and Beatrice, two women who I met randomly on the street. I’m still not clear what kind of church it was exactly. Nobody spoke English so it was all pretty lost on me except for the vibe of the place, which was explosive. All the women had to cover their hair, which I didn’t know about beforehand, so Sylvana let me use her shawl. They pulled out their bibles once and the rest of the time was singing and prayer and dancing. During the singing and preaching it was fine for people to speak out loud to themselves, or start yelling, or do Xena warrior cries. At one point there was a congo line.

After the service ended the pastors and the men lined up in a row and we (the women) and children shook hands with them. I don't know what everybody was saying to each other but I just said "bonjour" over and over again. 

The church wasn’t finished being built yet so the back is just wooden boards and some sheets. There were a bunch of holes in the walls, so lizards scuttled in and out during the service, which I thought was cute. Women sat together on the right side by the choir, and the men sat on the left side. Children sat in the back.

Beatrice on the left and Sylvana on the right. These are the two who invited me to the service.

As you can see in the photos, Gabonese “Sunday best” is so much cooler than American’s. The fabrics were so colorful and vibrant. Three people went into this state of shock, I don’t really know what you would call it, but they fell on the floor and on the people around them. One woman went stiff as a board and looked like she had a bitter taste in her mouth. Another one was shaking her head back and forth so fast that her earring was flung into the row behind her. Another one was sort of dancing and rolling. Three women in matching dresses took care of them when this happened and stayed with them until they were finished. One of the women didn’t snap out of it so they took her to the front on her knees and the preacher put his palm on her forehead and kept pushing her head back and forth, shouting things in French, while the women in the matching dresses held her up. Afterwards they put her back in her chair, but she was still limp.

Women had to cover their hair (I don't know specifically why, maybe this is a common thing that I just don't know about) and I didn't know so Sylvana let me use her shawl and fixed me up. The guy on the right is Beatrice's son.

Today is Gigi’s last day, so he’s been getting packed up. Weekends make me feel like a jellyfish. I say jellyfish because during the weekends my main activity seems to be “being.” We’re not saying or doing anything specifically exciting; it’s like the ultimate form of chilling. I just sort of sit or talk or look on as my heartbeat pulses. I pulse in my room for a little, then I pulse on over to Gigi’s room and pulse on his bed while he does something, then I pulse outside with Perez and Gigi as he hangs up his wet laundry, etc. etc.

Au revoir Gigi, I will miss you tons and tons. À prochaine.