We encountered an interesting issue when preparing to leave Conakry this morning. All of us needed some additional local currency to carry on, so two of us attended an ATM (one of only three in the city).
I inserted Gary's card first, but there was no response from the machine. James then observed alarmingly that the card hole had been butchered, and the card basically just fell into the machine. He placed his eye to the slot and exclaimed "hey, there's someone inside the machine."
As it turns out, he was inside to repair the machine and quite cranky about a couple of white men raining cards on him. He was muttering at us as he handed the card back. Surely an 'out of order' sign might have been a good idea, because a Guinean woman did precisely the same thing as we left.
We eventually did find an ATM, and successfully withdrew two million (yes, two million) francs each. Of course, our hotel room cost 800,000 and the remainder has gone on fuel and food over the past 24 hours.
A slow ride along a terrible road surface led us to the Guinea - Sierra Leone border. What a pleasant surprise this turned out to be, as we were greeted with unrestrained joy by everyone from the customs staff to the border police. The Sierra Leonians are loud, boisterous, mischevious, and fun-loving in the extreme. We told our travel story a dozen times to a dozen officials throughout the process, each one calling in colleagues and guffawing with laughter.
One of the gendarmes asked who was the boss, and we replied "no one". He struggled with this concept, and quizzed each of us regarding our age, marital status and children. After careful consideration, he declared that Ty should be referred to as the 'chief' because he was the fattest and had the most children. Yeah, right .... not going to happen.
Despite this, the government is now stable, infrastructure spending is going towards roads and other economic multipliers, and the people are upbeat about the country's future.
It has been interesting to speak with some of the locals (creole English is the norm here) about how the virus has shaped their cultural norms. Right across Africa, any human encounter opens with a hearty handshake. In SL, in deference to the Ebola virus, they simply punch hands near one another without actually touching. Several people have been apologetic for the lack of handshake, noting that they were extremely pleased to meet us anyway.
