Iles de Los-- The Island Adventure!

This weekend those of us who had off from the hospital decided to head off the coast and get a little sun. We had originally planned to stay the night but after several phone calls, help from our dayworker friend Joseph, and a few more conversations we found out that the hotels on the island do not open until after the rainy season--try November or December. Camping was discussed, but after looking at our modge podge of gear, we got realistic and thought a day trip sounded just wonderful!  One thing about African plans is that you can’t just hop on the internet to research or make reservations. Most things are by way of mouth--great for spontaneity but not making solid plans.

The Island chain is just off the coast of Conakry the capital of Guinea (where we are docked). There are three larger Islands, and a few small ones that are uninhabited. The Islands belonged to the British until 1904 when they traded to the French for fishings rights off the coast of Labrador. Of the Island chain, Tamara (known to the locals as Fortoba) was the site where the French would transport slaves to until they were able to export them to the Americas. Because the people were unable to swim they were stuck on the Island awaiting a future they did not want close enough to still be able to gaze at the Guinean shore. Google tells me that one of the Islands actually is said to be what the novel Treasure Island was based on. With their Jungle interiors and beachy sides, they really are a scene from the hit show LOST. (We may or may not have joked about “the others”.)

Roume is located about a 40 minute boat ride away from the shore. A few of the crew members had been to Kassa before, but not many had adventured to the middle island. We decided to make the trek and eight of us set off into the African sun. Saturday morning we took the 20 minute walk down to the area where boats launch. The majority are fishing boats here, but a few are used to shuttle people back and forth from the Islands. The island natives will come into town to trade goods and bring back foods when needed. The shoreline is littered with hundreds of people all with a purpose moving about, trading goods, and bringing in days catch. How did we plan to find a boat in this busy place you may ask, well--- we decided that someone would see eight white people walking towards the shore and decide “they must want to go to the islands!” That is EXACTLY what happened, and we are so happy that Abou was the one to make it to us first. He was a wonderful guide and took such good care of us. He spoke only French but Beth, a wonderful gal working in the pharmacy, put her language skills to work. After discussing the price for the day we headed toward the dock. After a quick stop to gather two more life jackets he asked if we would give him 150,000 of the agreed 650,000 Guinea Franks upfront for Petrol (to put it in perspective the total cost was about $92 US dollars or $12 per person). We obliged and he took off-- we had a good feeling that he would come back. Standing there on the dock we saw many things. People coming and going, gianormous fish being brought in from the mornings catch, fish being descaled, people selling bagged water from atop their heads, and one kid trying to sell his guniea pig. Halarious right?--- we are in Guinea and he is selling a GUINEA pig! 

As we stood, a few of us commented on the boat that was making its way to the dock while someone was using a yellow bucket to scoop water out of the bottom of the boat. I believe I even said, “wouldn’t that be funny if it was our boat?”. Well, it turns out that it WAS our boat! It was of the wood variety, had many a splinters and a tribe of massive wood/water roaches living near the bottom. But hey, if you don’t look down its much easier to pretend they don’t exist, right? At one point, one definitely decided my foot looked tasty and climbed aboard- I jumped and kicked and Abou laughed hysterically. The thing almost ate my toe off- not funny right? Ok, so maybe it was a tad humorous... The bottom of the boat had several planks of wood laid down to create a flat bottom to walk on to get up to your plank of a seat. It was splintered, a tad wobbly, and the paint was chipping, but I couldn’t have designed a more beautiful chariot in which to carry us to the Island. (Remember that I want the FULL African experience every chance I have.) Abou- our fearless leader set us off with the help of one teenage apprentice of sorts aboard the boat, we will call him Skipper or Skip for short. Both Abou and Skip have the balance of tight rope walkers. They run about the boat, front to back while balancing on the 5 inch side, riding the waves without fumble. I really think I would have been in the water in 2 seconds flat if I tried to walk around the edge--it was truly impressive.

 It took a hot minute to get used to the swaying of the boat, but it really was a beautiful ride. We did quite a bit of maneuvering to dodge the shipwrecks littering the channel on the way out. Some of the wrecks were MASSIVE, quite possibly the size of our ship in their prime. It was neat to think of who created the ships, what were the ships purpose back in the day, and if the creator knew it was resting on the ocean floor with only a teensie bit shown to the world what would they say? “I told you not to run it onto a sandbar?” or had some of them met a more eventful last voyage? I can’t imagine being that close to shore, and planting your ship on the ocean floor. It’s hard to say--but I bet the ships had been there for decades judging by the rust on the remaining carcasses. I guess now we at least know where not to steer our boat. Abou effortlessly maneuvered around the first Island, and it was here that we saw our own version of Pride Rock from the Lion King. A few birds even flew overhead as we began singing various Lion King songs...what a group of dorks right? Jen, my bunkmate, is not the most comfortable in water. I was so proud of her for rocking out the boat ride, and even taking her turn chucking out the water from the bottom. On a side note, during the discussion of heading to island a few weeks ago she was the only one who said she wanted a life jacket or she wasn’t willing to go. The rest of us kind of brushed off the life jackets, being that we are now fearless African adventurers and all. The next day was when the 24 lost their lives to a boating accident. She’s one smart girl right? We still are not sure where the heck all these life jackets miraculously appeared from, but every single boater now wears a neon orange life jacket. I think Guinea must have been the recipients of one large life saving donation, or the government had been hoarding them- not sure which.

Petra and Cathy in the front of the boat

Pat, Jasmin, Beth and myself ready to go!

Pride Rock

Emily and I peeking for roaches

 As we approached, we saw a small group of people hanging out on the shore. We jumped out of the boat into the ocean, narrowly avoided the loss of a sandal on Beth’s part, and walked up onto the beach. Abou introduced us to a few of his friends and he began to set off into the jungle. Wait- we came to go to the beach, isn’t this the beach we motioned? He again waved, “come with me”, so we all kind of looked around shrugged and followed. Best. Decision. Ever. After a short 5 minute walk through the jungle the trees opened up and lying in front of us was one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen.

We arrived on shore!

Walking through the jungle

Jasmin taking her turn dumping out the water

The beach!

Abou is in the life jacket

Setting up camp

Rastafarian friends--they love to sing a song with the words Bien Venue, or Welcome to Africa!

My dear friend Emily

Yes my opinion may be tainted by what I see around me now in the city, but really- top 5. It was gorgeous, blue sky, lush green trees, and big rocks littering the shore. We began to set up camp for the day and Abou set off to get a few cold drinks. As if a conch shell had been blown to notify the natives, locals began to come to the ocean to see the white folks. We made some Rastafarian friends and heard a few wonderful songs. One of our new friends had some of the best dance moves I have seen--he even gave us an impromptu workshop teaching us a few of his moves. A while later another band came to play and a few men trying to sell jewelry hit big when two of the girls decided to buy a ton of his charms to make magnets as thank you gifts to their supporters. (sorry, I wasn’t one of them) The Island was pristine compared to what we have here on the mainland. Here in the city when the tide is in, the water appears safe. Once the water sets out though, the treasures of the ocean floor appear. Trash, shoes, discarded clothing, lost items all come out to show their faces. Its not very appealing to say the very least. On Roume, the beach was beautiful. The water didn’t have trash floating nor did you feel it below your feet. Three of us set off into the water and spent the better part of an hour jumping about. Diving into the waves and letting them float us ashore. Some of you may know that I am not quite a seasoned swimmer. I would like to equate my skills to that of a small child, so obviously I wasn’t too keen on going super far out. It turns out that I get a bit anxious when a big wave comes along, and at one point in my flustered state may or may not of yelled “I don’t think I’m equip for this” as it crashed over my head. I turned up a bit further ashore a few moments later, but apparently not quick enough for my two friends to not yell “Hannah!” a few times. woops! I just found out it was easier to let it take you in then try to fight it! I did get a few saline rinses through my nostrils-- but hey, I think that my sinuses are clearer today for it and they now have a great line to tease me with-- win/win situation. The sand was so fine that it went everywhere imaginable and stuck as if superglued. With nowhere to rinse off we had to accept the fact that we literally had swim suits full of sand, sand in our ears, sand in our noses, and the ocean left my scalp literally looking like a mangy dog. Now if you have ever given a dog a bath you can appreciate what my scalp looked like. If I parted my hair I literally had patches of sand stuck to my scalp. Half a brand new bottle of conditioner and about 24 hours later, I am still finding sand stuck in my hair. It was the perfect lazy day of reading, dancing on the beach, playing in the ocean, and multiple sunscreen applications.

    We ended the day coming back across the channel lugging our tired bodies, newly acquired sunburns, and lifted spirits. It was a perfect day and such a relaxing change from the fast pace of this city. We returned refreshed, rejuvenated, and ready to face this week ahead of us. Please pray for us as this week’s surgeries begin that we are able to truly reach all of our patients and that we can change lives.