Again it is a sunny day. And then realising that it is freezing cold in Holland! After breakfast I meditate about my own terrace. Suddenly I have a splendid idea. I wish to see the other side of the Gambia. Not those flat-walsed tourist-paths, not the farmer's villages and the proud women of the multicoloured market but modern Gambia. Why not pay a visit to a printer? That is a sport's branch of which I know a lot.

I call Yahya to explain my idea and ask him if he wants to help me. Of course he replies, I will pick you up by car within one hour. Exactly in time the landrover drives across the grounds of the hotel with too much noise. To Yahya's family the vehicle seems to be new, but hearing the noise it has already gone through quite a few years. Also something's wrong with the clutch. But it moves and what else can you expect in the Gambia?

Printed matter, occupational disability or not, unconsciously I pay attention. But you have to make efforts to find printed matter here. There is a daily English newspaper, only four pages printed on a strong sort of paper. A bookshop or a magazine-booth I haven't seen yet. A few times I have discovered a stand at the market with a small pile of second-hand books, imported from Arabic countries. You hardly find a small poster pasted on the wall, which is usually out of date. At schools there is a shortage of notebooks, at least for books. Paper is expensive and each piece of paper is used three times. A busticket is written by hand and carefully torn from a block into a format of three by three centimetres. Wrapping paper is collected caustiously and when purchasing peanuts or a French bread a matching piece is ripped off and transformed into a cornet. In a shop in Basse, in East Gambia the owner managed to occupy Norwegian telephone books. Perfect, exactly the right size to hand over their wrapped purchases to clients. Rip, rip the pages sounded. In a coffee house we had our breakfast: Nescafe coffee with French bread and baked eggs. The French bread is offered to us wrapped into paper. Pages from an Arabic schoolbook. The coffee house owner is from Senegal and most likely he cannot read. Illiteracy in the Gambia is large, only 27% has been educated, but the amount of people who can read and write is larger.

This reminds me of the Bata story. For the first time a man returns from Africa and says: "I have discovered a gap in the market: shoes in Africa for everybody walks barefoot". He leaves for good and starts a shoe-shop in Africa. After some time he returns in Holland. "And", his friends ask him, "how did it go?". "I did not sell anything", he replies, "for everybody walks barefoot".

I enter the car and we are heading for the modern Gambia. Yahya explains that there is only one printer in the Gambia. They produce twenty percentage of the printed matter, such as the daily newspaper. The remaining printed matter is imported. We drive direction Banjul, the capital, and approach an industry zone. For Gambian standards these are rather large warehouses for wood, furniture and machinery. After some investigation and questioning we pass a gate of a large wood factory. In a small outbuilding we would be there. 'New Type Press' is written on a sign. We enter and the familiar pounding of a presser confide me to go on. A small office with three desks, document files, telephones, maps, paper and indeed a Mackintosh and a laserprinter in the corner. The computer looks smart. Some sort of Wordperfect programme is working. It is not even a late version. My heart is overwhelmed and my fingers start itching.

We are kindly requested to have a seat and have to wait. Time to study the rest of the interior. On the desk beside the telephone is the telephone directory. For the whole of the Gambia, just 1 cm thick. As far as I can see it contains as well as the white as the yellow pages. The office is dark and untidy, style from the fifties. The manager, presumably a French lady, fluently in English. She is busy helping a client by phone. Then she nods and invites us to explain why we are here. Bravely I start the conversation. I hand over my business card, explain that I visit the Gambia as a tourist and am interested in the printer professionally. Meaningless she looks at the card and shakes her head. Never heard about it she answered. I explain that it is the largest printing establishing group in the Netherlands and she got scared. She replies with much diplomacy but her answer is NO. She cannot see us and show us around. Only schoolchildren or ministers, but no colleagues. Afraid of competition. She first has to ask the director who is in Libia at the moment. We insist again but we didn't get as far as some vague promises that she will probably call the owner.

Again we are outside, leaving behind the sound of the pounding presser. At my question about the number of employees in the printer Yahya answers that there will be at least twenty. Disappointed I get into the car again. There my chance slips away to see the modern side of the Gambia. I should not have showed my business card. I should have had Yahya do the talking. But I will come back, preferably accompanied by a minister or dressed up as a student looking like Pippie Langkous.

More information:
Map of Africa and more information:
Map of Gambia and more information:

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More travelstories from Africa:
An tour through West Africa
On the motor from north to south

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