First thoughts of Freetown

The setting for the city has to be high on the list of the most beautiful in the world. High rolling hills sweep gently into great creeks, sandy beeches and the wide, warm blue waters of the Atlantic. Clouds drift around the hills and fill the valleys, obscuring the lush green landscape and adding a strange dream-like quality to the scene.

But the peace of the surroundings does little to still the chaos of the over crowded city. The population of Freetown is around 1 million, and the cities infrastructure would struggle to support even a third of that number. For every well built house there seems to be 10 poorly constructed, corrugated iron homes crammed into the dark, damp spaces between buildings. With more houses clinging precariously to steep hillsides, and filling the horribly flood-prone bay areas. Having pipe-bourn water directly into your home is a rare luxury, and the electricity supply, though greatly improved, is still sporadic at best. Those who can afford it have bought diesel generators, which clatter and splutter into life at every power-cut, spewing out fumes and adding to the background roar of city life.

The streets are permanently clogged with traffic – only the motorbikes make good progress, weaving dangerously between the cars, often carrying passengers and ambitious, awkward loads. (Yesterday I saw a passenger holding a large pane of plate glass precariously between himself and the driver. The glass was wider than the bike by several feet on either side, and every corner seemed likely to be their last). The task of easing the congestion is entrusted to a huge army of traffic police who are stationed at almost every junction. Men and women in smart blue uniforms with both arms encased in impossibly white cotton, who beckon on one stream of traffic whilst holding back another. They are surprisingly successful in their mission, but the proverbial rearranging of deckchairs on the sinking titanic can’t help but spring to mind.

Away from the traffic the streets are vibrant and colourful. Large billboards tower above the major junctions with patriotic slogans about the importance of tax, and nation saving messages about HIV prevention and women’s rights. The buildings themselves have bold, bright adverts painted directly onto their facades – promoting various telecommunications companies, brands of beer, powdered milk and other foods and fuels. People set up stalls along the nonexistent pavements, selling bread, eggs, fruits, vegetables, sweets, home-cooked biscuits, plantain chips, and pretty much anything else you can think of. Those who don’t have a permanent pitch walk from sale to sale, balancing impossibly huge loads on their heads with astonishing poise and remarkable skill. Taking advantage of the long lines of standing traffic, they sell their goods directly to drivers and passengers through vehicle windows. A long ride in gridlocked traffic can pass far easier with a bag a plantain chips to keep you occupied!

And the people of Freetown are fantastic. They are warm and welcoming making moving around the city easy, enjoyable and surprisingly hassle-free. My experiences in Malawi prepared me for relentless sales techniques and crowds of children passing their time with an enjoyable game of follow the Westerner (enjoyable for them that is, rather less enjoyable if you happen to be the hapless Westerner). But my experiences here have been entirely different. People are happy to talk to you, but on the whole wait for you to talk to them first. They’re also happy to explain their culture and help you feel less confused than you look. A good example of this was a woman selling beautiful clothes and materials at a market I visited on my first weekend. On giving me the price and noticing my shocked expression she laughed and said, “You haggle, that’s what we do. I give you a price, you give me a price, I give you another price.” “Can I give you a ludicrously low price?” I asked only half joking, trying to feel my way through the system. She laughed again, “Of course!” She said with an infectious giggle, “But you’ll never get it for that price!” And she was right, I’m a terrible haggler.

I wish I could show you pictures of the city, but unfortunately the internet connections I’ve found so far make loading a picture a task to save up for when you have a spare fortnight. I’m afraid for now you’ll have to put up with my rambling descriptions while I continue my hunt for a fast speed connection. I’ve got so much more I want to share – future instalments will include, my house, housemates and friends, the joys of Freetown’s public transport, what I did on my birthday, beeches that you thought only existed in your dreams, meeting the Freetown war-amputees football team, and my first experiences of travelling up-county. Oh, and I should probably also tell you something about my job!!

Miss you all loads so please keep in touch!! Will try and blog again soon.

Lots of love

Freya
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