Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Kindia part two

Sorry for the delayed post-the internet went down yesterday on the ship. But have no fear, the saga continues tonight!

So where we last left our fauté adventurers (I think fauté falls in the same category as gringo as nicknames; at least that's what I'm assuming as everyone is yelling it at me as I walk by), the girls survived the night in a rather comfy hotel. There was a small confusion with our taxi driver and payment, but it was quickly resolved, and we set off for the mountain.




As we walked, Ansulman told us of the people who live on the mountains and how they farm/ranch/provide for themselves without having to leave the mountain. I think they still do leave, for trade and social reasons, but it sounds like they wouldn't have to if they didn't want to. As we started off, we attracted several kids from the nearby village who tagged along as our unofficial tour guides. The hike up wasn't too bad; the terrain was mostly rocks and streams that you navigated while avoiding the slick spots. 


Of course, I ended up stepping mostly on slick spots and ended up face down multiple times, much to the amusement of our tour guides (who also graciously helped me up every time and made sure to lend me a hand on big steps). It was worth it though just to look out part way up and see this all around.

Naturally, more than a few Lion King quotes were thrown out during the hike, even if this wasn't the Serengeti. And this is what we saw off in the distance.


It didn't seem real. I've never felt like I was living in a National Geographic magazine as much as I did here. It was breathtaking, and several times, I just stopped to praise God for such a beautiful creation. Best church service EVER!

Once we reached the top, we found a woman, her cows, and a thatch hut. She informed us that the road to mountain village is overgrown, and the best way to get there is to climb back down and go around to climb a bigger mountain.



In the meantime, she was kind enough to let us take photographs of her home and livestock.



I thought the branding was really interesting (even if I felt sorry for the cows). The woman had one request of us, that we bring prints of the photos back with us. She said white people walk up and take photos of her and her cows, and she wanted pictures to have for herself. We promised that we would send some with Ansulman if we couldn't make it back before we left.

Meanwhile, the kids discovered they liked cheesing for the camera, so there was a constant cry of "Moi aussi!" (Me too!) The result is some fabulous gangster poses (where did they learn this?) and a lesson in proper fist bumping (they wanted to teach us).



I also thought I'd be clever and make a visual trompe d'oeil photo of me "leaning" against a cow, but the cow in the background moved without my permission, so here's the result. Really, these Guinean cattle-they're so unprofessional.

We decided that the hike to another mountain would make our return to Conakry after dark (it would have been at least 3 hours to hike, and another 5 hour taxi squish back home), so we chose to head back and try to return another time. Once we reached the village, a woman, who turned out to be a believer, offered us some palm water. I was guessing it was similar to palm wine, but she says that they tap palm trees, and this water comes out. The men in the village like it, because it's natural, and they believe that God created all natural things, so it must be good. I'm not explaining that well, but it kind of followed the idea of Peter's  dream where he was told that no food (or person) is unclean. She gave it to us to refresh us, which is so kind, but we were all a little nervous about drinking something that hadn't been filtered. But we didn't want to be rude, so we said a prayer for our stomachs and gulped. I think I expected it to be sweet, which it's not, and it had a slightly fermented taste, but it was rather refreshing. She pulled up benches for us to rest, and we got to meet her family. 


As we left, she gave us a gift of another bottle, which was so kind. I wish I had had something to give her, but I'll to remember to bring something if I go back. One of the girls who had gone to Kindia the weekend before had mentioned that she was glad to go there because she felt like she met the "real" Africa there. It wasn't just another big city, but she saw the life, and vibrancy, and generosity that is so prevalent here. And after meeting Bettina and spending time on the mountain, I agree. 



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