Lunch & Dinner
"Lunch, are you hungry?" they ask me. It is about two o'clock
and I am visiting family Sagnia. Half an hour ago Nyima left
the company and the reason is very clear now. She was busy in
the kitchen preparing an African meal. "Do you mind if we have
dinner together?" next question is. I react surprisingly. Of
course not, that goes without saying. We enlarge the circle of
chairs and the workers who are building horse-stables behind
the compound enter and timidly take a seat. They hardly dare
to look at me or at least shake hands with me.
Nyima brings in a large bowl with a diameter of half a metre
and places the whopper in the circle of people. It is a kind
of washing-up-bowl. I recognise it as Chinese enamel. The type
which you also find at the Maroccan stalls at the Albert Cuyp
Market. The bowl is of full of rice. On top a small fish with
three onions, two green tomatoes and red sauce. Spoons are
distributed and I am invited to eat from the bowl. After I
have taken my first spoonful of rice the others follow.
There are no dishes. Everybody takes some rice from the edge
of the large scale where he sits closest to. It is a real
communal happening. Silently we eat bite by bite. It is very tasty,
rice with spicy fish-tomato sauce.
I look across the circle. There are not enough chairs that's
why Nyima sits on the floor with CoCo. Only the men and myself
use spoons. With both hands the two women mould the rice into
a large ball and put it in their mouths. But Nyima's hands are
not still. She also analyses the fish very fast. She takes
away the fishbones and constantly drops very small parts of
fish on the edge of the scale, each time for somebody else.
She takes care of the division and pays extra attention to the
guest. Meanwhile CoCo also gets a mouthful. The more the scale
gets empty the more the speed of eating is reduced. One by one
they lean backwards satisfactorily. As desert they get a mug
of water. Then the workers disappear as noiseless as they have
arrived. The scale with rice left-over and the spoons are
brought to the kitchen followed by a siesta-like relaxed
silence.
As a tourist in the Gambia you have enough choice in various
small restaurants. Preferably Italian, but you can also find
Chinese, Libanese or fish and chips. The menu-cards of the
hotel restaurants offer a large variety of meals.
You would
hardly imagine that you are in a developing country. But if
you look closely you find small food-stands beside the hotels.
For tourists almost inconspicuous. Such a stand is not more
than a small table on which a large bowl which is covered by a
large dish upside down. Behind this usually a woman is seated
on a small chair. Local dining-stalls for hotel-personel are
hidden behind a few fences of carton. Rice with pinda-sauce,
or with spicy red sauce. The price is often not more than 10
Dalasi and probably the population only pays 5 Dalasi. No
tourist dares to do so. For example: a dinner in a
touristrestaurant will cost you 75 Dalasi. The dining-stalls only
have a few dishes which are cleaned in between usage in a bowl
with soiled water.
Yahya and Nyima invite me to next day's dinner. They will cook
for me especially. Of course I accept the invitation. At dawn
at the agreed time I again arrive at the house of Yahya's
brother. Some time later the niece also arrives. Returned from
market loaded with bags full of shopping. She has done
shopping especially for the dinner.
It is getting late and dark.
Dinner is ready. I may enter. Yahya lits candles and suddently
Baks shows up with two plastic mugs and a bottle of red wine.
The little niece brings in a dish and a scale with bread. This
is rather unusual according to African concepts. Up till now I
have only seen them eating rice and wine is very special in
this setting. We have dinner just with Yahya, Nyima and CoCo.
The rest of the family dines in the kitchen. In the sparing
candle-light and with the aid of small pieces of French bread
I discover what is on the dish. The bottom is covered with
lettuce, on top some small pieces of meat with a lot of sauce,
fried potatoes, slices of tomatoes and on four spots a big
tuft of mayonaise. This must be a royal feast. Together we
finish the scale by using small pieces of French bread. "It
looks like a French restaurant", I joke. Candles, wine and
French bread.
"Desert", Baks said exultantly and puts the next course in the
middle. I recognize one of the presents from my rucksack. On a
plate I see cubes of Dutch cheese decorated with
cocktailsticks and Dutch small flags.
The last bit of wine is served
and the whole family joins. I started laughing. A splendid
contradiction. An African family enjoying Dutch cocktail.
Everybody tastes and swallows and even CoCo likes the cheese.
I press a cocktail-stick in my hair. Big fun. In a short while
I see in the dark a few radiating black heads, the frizzy hair
decorated with red-white-blue small flags.
More information:
Map of Africa and more information:
Map of Gambia and more information:
More travelstories from Africa:
An tour through West Africa
On the motor from north to south
Go back to Liesbet's Atelier
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