Blog du Wren

Wrestling With Wealth Inequality In The Gambia

Almost anyone who has traveled to a developing nation has likely been confronted with the glaring wealth inequality between the US and wherever they are traveling. It is evident in so many ways: poor infrastructure, unavailability of goods and services, interactions with everyday people, and so much more. And while wealth inequality is evident in the US too, it somehow feels much more prevalent in so many countries I've visited.

Take The Gambia: according to a recent article in Global Finance Magazine, The Gambia ranks as the 16th poorest country in the world, even poorer than Haiti and Sudan. The U.S. is 7th richest with almost 30 times more per person, based on GDP and purchasing power parity. When you factor in the severe drop in tourism due to COVID-19, it puts a country that has not an insignificant reliance on tourism like The Gambia in an even tougher position.

A Turkish power generation boat serves electricity to much of coastal
Gambia because the local infrastructure is under developed.
This wealth inequality was one of the factors that help me choose where I'm going to travel to. Hawaii doesn't need my money. Nor, in the recent case of me needing a rest after the Camino, does Ibiza or the Canary Islands. I figured while although the travels of Wren don't equal status quo changing amounts, every dollar I spend in a place like the Gambia or Senegal (34th poorest nation) is a dollar that otherwise wouldn't get added to the economy. And yes, not every penny of that dollar (or every butut of that dalasi, as the case may be) stays here (I do occasionally buy a snickers, Coke, or other American product in a pinch), but I figure a non-zero amount makes it into the hands of a Gambian and that I count as a win.

So it is with all this in the back of my head that I toddle along on my African journey. I try my best to eat at local restaurants, stay at hotels/guesthouses that are owned by a person not a corporation, and not over-haggle. And even though it is counter to the habits I've spent a lifetime forming, I try to use the wealth inequality argument to splurge a little, maybe a couple fresh juices here or a cab ride instead of bus there.

Enza and me with some delicious ice cream from Ice Land.
In the last couple days, however, this consideration has come to the foreground. My daily routine involves quite a bit of walking and on these walks, I'm always approached by tour guides, taxi drivers, or market stall owners asking for my business. Since I'm rarely in need of their services, I instead take some time to answer their questions* and generally try to change the interaction from one of me feeling looked upon as a possible sale and little more to one where we are two people having a genuine conversation. It works maybe half the time. When it works, however, it can lead to some really great moments.

The Gambian people are super nice. They don't call it the Smiling Coast for no reason. So I've had some really nice conversations, often hearing about the toll the pandemic is taking on people's lives and livelihoods. Last night, as I meandered the town looking for some dessert, a shop owner fell in beside me with the usual. After sharing a bit about an earlier negative experience I had with a local tour guide hustler, our interaction transitioned to a truly genuine one. He told me a lot about his life and esp. the finances of it (how much a bag of rice has gone up since the new president took power, how much it costs to send his brothers and sisters to school, how much medicine can cost when you get sick, how it is his job to support his mother and family yet he goes days without a sale at his shop). He ended up joining me the whole 2 mile walk to the ice cream shop where we continued our conversation the good stuff. On the way home, he introduced me to his mother. It was nice. I plan to swing by his shop later to at least have a look.

I always love riding in a tuk-tuk, even if I could have just as easily walked.
I wish I had some greater revelation re: this issue of wealth inequality viewed through the lens of travel besides hoping my meager travel budget is a drop in the bucket of what's needed. And I guess the mere act of being here and having my eyes further opened to the realities of that wealth inequality is something, esp. as it will be part of the story I tell about my time here. But with only <2 days left until I leave, perhaps I should just post this and head out and try and spend a bit more money. There's a fresh juice stand on the beach calling my name.

Wednesday December 22 2021

File under: travel, Gambia

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A Gambian Meal

With the thought that a little might not hurt, I decided my first days in might call for a beach and, well, little else. I found a nice "eco-lodge"* where the price was right. Tourism is very low, due to COVID, so I practically have the place to myself.

And while I'm looking for down time, I don't want it to be boring, so when an ex-pat who is living here asked if I wanted to accompany her on an "adventure", I was totally game. I needed to go into the little town anyway to exchange money*. So off we went in the bush taxi.

The plan, as I understood it, was to hook up with a local beach bar owner friend, visit the market and get some stuff for a meal, convince beach bar owner to cook said meal, and generally make a day of it. And a day of it, it was.

Nothing in Gambia (or Senegal, for that matter) seems to move with any sense of urgency/speed/seeming purpose, so I was very prepared for the meandering, side quests, distractions, and more that made our trip to the market take 2-ish hours. And when I mean market, I don't mean grocery store. The little fishing village near Gunjur was a mishmash of ramshackle huts, each selling a little of this or that. We got onions here, tomatoes there, rice bread water there there and there. I say "we" but I just happily tagged along while Lamin and Antje chatted our way through and handled the business. I was just along for the ride.

The focus of the meal was to be butter fish, a step up, as I understand it, from the standard fish that seem to exist in piles all over. So we found a place cutting it (though a million miles from hygenically) and grabbed some fillets. And with that, we were off down the beach!

Lamin's beach bar was, well, sparse. No electricity, no floor, thatched roof, and cooking that happened over a fire out back, as far as I could tell. But it was right on the beach and really really peaceful. The cooking was another unhurried event, taking more than 2 hours. While we waited, I entertained the locals who were hanging out with some juggling, having found a machete and a couple of kitchen knives. They were a great audience.

When dinner was served, it was, well, authentic. Carrots, sweet potatoes, taro, egg plant, tomatoes, cabbage, onions all coated in oil and slow cooked. The fish was battered and fried. And off it was served with white rice. The plate was so full I could barely finish it (thought left a bit of the smooshy eggplant). All in all, the food was good, though not great. Definitely a good boost of veggies that my diet has been sorely lacking*. The experience, however, was top notch. I got a local experience and down time, really exact what the doctor ordered.

Back at the hotel, I entertained a staff with my rope tricks. Talk about the best audience ever! They all wanted to all of them and I was happy to oblige!

Friday December 17 2021

File under: travel, Gambia

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