The Marionette

Part 1 - Wandering

The airport seemed quite contemporary, albeit very small. I was looking around to see a familiar face but all I could see were loads of old European women for some reason. The whole place looked like a retirement house full of fat grannies. I unfolded the piece of sketch I was drawing throughout the flight and took a closer look. That was the only lead I had. After a little bit of walking around I hailed a taxi. A Mercedes 300 D stopped in front of me and I jumped in. All I had with me was a backpack with all my possessions and all my money in it. I was now truly a nomad roaming around with his house on his shoulders. Taxi was slowly moving me towards the nearest hotel as I told the driver. After leaving the airport, I started to see first sign of civilization. Loads and loads of old, beaten up houses with roofs made out of sheet metal, all colored in various dull colors has greeted me. All the roads were veiled in light brown sand. The weather was quite hot and humid. I was moving inside a concrete jungle. The air was full of dust. I couldn't even keep the windows open. The tallest buildings I could see were the minarets of the mosques. The whole place looked a lot more like a village than a capital city. Was this really it? Where are all those glorious skyscrapers and lovely greenery I was promised? This was the second time of me getting fooled by that snake eyed bitch. Yet here I was following her lead, being a submissive little lamb I am.

The taxi dropped me at somewhere near the beach. I doubt this was the closest hotel to the airport but I really couldn't raise any complaint after that point. The hotel at least had somewhat pleasant view. After checking in and dumping all my stuff to the room, I decided to take a walk. Building sand castles at the beach was not my goal after all. So, I threw myself into the streets for the adventure I was destined to live. I was now roaming around the narrow dirt roads of The Gambia in hopes of finding my missing piece. I already started to question the rationality of this whole journey as I was on my way to walk through the entire city one step at a time. While walking, I came across a small bazaar. The place was crowded and noisy. Children were running around, merchants were shouting in a language I have never heard of, some cooks were serving people their street food and some vendors opening up coconuts with machetes for their customers. Occasionally I could see women all dressed in white. People were selling all sorts fruits I have never seen. The traffic in Gambia was a huge mess. The roads resembled an endless river consisted of old vehicles and people. It was a total chaos. Vehicles were moving towards all directions imaginable, even on sidewalks occasionally. The shops often flooded over the sidewalks with all the goods merchants were selling. It was possible to come across herds of cattle every once in a while. In the bazaar though, it was mostly people and motorcycles. While looking around, an old lady called me. 

"Come here, my son." she said. And gave me a handful of brownish orange fruits.

While I was taking a bite, she laughed and said: "Yes, eat them all. You look like you did not eat anything for years." with a lovely African accent. 

The fruit was quite sweet with a slight taste of sourness. I didn't know what it was but I thanked her and reached out to my pocket to pay for it. Just at that moment she came back with a large dark brown fruit. At first I thought it was a coconut but later I learned it was something called baobab. I first said "No thanks, I am just looking around." but she gave it to me anyways and said "Take it." I asked how much all of that costed but she rejected to accept anything in return. I thanked her once again and walked away.

People were all wearing colorful garments and all seemed quite joyful. Everyone was friendly and were willing to help whenever I asked for directions. Surely this place Gambia had lots of problems and didn't seem like the paradise I was expecting but at least people were quite nice. I could even look beyond the dreadful little houses, the noise, the heat, the humidity and piles of trash cluttering all the beaches. I surely wasn't here for fancy looking metropolitan cities with breathtaking view. And I wasn't gonna stop until I find what I came for. Although I didn't know what I was looking for either. 

Next few days I spent all my waking hours in search. This place was so tiny, I almost discovered 80% of it on the first day. After the third day I have seen almost everything Banjul had to offer. I have walked the every street, seen every corner, been inside the every bar, every beach, every hotel, every shop. I stopped people randomly and showed them the drawing of the blonde woman but it did not help. On the fourth day I was completely defeated. Spent most of the morning in my room and kept staring at the ocean. What I was doing wrong? I waited for another message, another dream, a direction maybe but none occurred. Maybe I was a little impatient but I finally came into a conclusion that I was just chasing a black swan in a desert. It was time to give up. That day I bought a plane ticket back to home and tomorrow I was gonna return. That evening I went to a bar to drink a bottle of beer for the last time. 

The bar I often visited was located near the hotel. They had some decent food but the beer they sold tasted like piss. I went back for it anyways. It came in a green bottle that had "Gambia's best beer" written on it with a bird logo. It barely had any alcohol in it. If this is the best they offer, I assume that their hard drinks are literally watered down hand sanitizers. Despite the underwhelming alcohol, I actually liked that place because of the view and the delicious food. And that day I was ordering my last bottle of Gambian beer. The whole bar was almost empty and there wasn't even any music that night. I guess even the bartender grew sick of it. When I was halfway through the bottle, a hand touched my shoulder.