Sunday I got another taste of the corruption and calamities dealing with the administration in Kerouane. My plan was to head out in the afternoon and go for a swim at the waterfalls near the foot of the Simandou Mountains, about 45 minutes away by car. I went there once before with my bro, and kids usually go every Sunday. I was going to take one of the vehicles, with a driver and invite a few of my students and kids I've met around town to come along. That day it took about two and a half hours before we finally got there. The kids added the usual 45minutes to an hour to show up, they had no gasoline in their motorcycles, no water, and no food even though I told them we would be having lunch out there. After buying a liter of gas for each bike, I took them to the market and got them some avocadoes, bread and peanuts. Meanwhile, after a few coffees with some locals and my driver, my body was pumping caffeine and sugar. I was ready to roll. We hit the switch on the radio, and called in to HQ to give them our position and destination before we were going to head off. A few seconds later, a scrambled voice asked us to immediately return to base. At this point I'm irritated, we're nearly outside of town, so I grabbed the radio and asked for them to give me a reason. More scramble, the driver tells me we have to head back. After racing back to the main gate, I let him jump out and see what was going on. Apparently they wanted us to stop by the Director’s house of something or other to get his authorization. We get back in the car, and it's just past 12. We stop by his house to pick up an authorization, but he assures us it's no problem, and 'Inshallah' have a nice day. We mount up again, make the call on the radio that we were pulling out of Kerouane for the falls, and a after a brief pause, radio control calls in saying "negative, it's illegal," and the Prefet, or military appointee administered to the village, “banned any foreigners from going up there.” At this point the sugar wore off, and the caffeine was kicking in. I'm sweating and dizzy from driving in circles. After a few trips back and forth, we return to the Director's house who, quietly put down the dictionary he was reading since we had left, and now tells us it's illegal. Despite our request for a written authorization, he insists on calling up the guard who watches over the water plant a few kilometers from the falls. Coincidently he was in town. Finally in Malinke, he tells my driver that we have to compensate this guard for his displacement because he's going to escort us all the way to the falls. I was grinding my teeth when I learned this half way there from my driver. I’m not sure where things went wrong, whether it was over the radio, at the Director’s house, or the ridiculous claim that the falls were illegal to foreigners. It’s a typical example of the procedures in dealing with different levels of bureaucracy in Kerouane. At the end of the day, TIA, we eventually made it to the falls, and I threw myself in the water hoping I could cleanse myself of the whole affair. The few pictures resume the fun and laughs we had sitting underneath the cascade, oblivious to the corruption, problems and dishonesty we left behind.
I got away from town when Victor, one of the geologists at the base, asked me if I wanted to hitch a ride on the ‘Squirrel,’ our helicopter heading to the drilling sites up on the mountain range. It was Monday, and what a great way to start the week flying around West Africa at 200 kilometers per hour through the mountains in a chopper. The Rhodesian pilot, Julius, made it memorable, or “lekker,” “cool” in Afrikaans. We took off from the helipad in Kerouane in an upwards spiral and accelerated across the plains and over the tree tops to the waterfalls on the other side of the valley. The same place I went with my bro and had so many problems getting to the day before. And there I was in less than a few minutes from the time we took off, looking at the water plunge a few hundred feet into the reservoir. We hovered at the bottom of the falls, just enough time to snap a few shots of the landscape, and then accelerated upwards over the hill and across the mountains. We were racing at about 20 meters from the treetops until we reached the drill site.
The reason things here will only transform with the investment of a foreign development team working hand in hand with the people is essentially because the ruling party is inept at implementing any change. It is essential to lead by example so honest men can follow in our stead. The presence of our toys, our cars and helicopters have certainly impacted the local population, and if drilling does in fact commence once the mining concession is recovered, allot more action is going to be taking place on the ground and in the air. The effort to mobilize the youth is important because they are the leaders of tomorrow, and in Guinea, the force of today. The improvements we have made in the community are vastly done unilaterally, employing local work forces and using the dictatorial powers of the Prefet because the system in place is incompetent in making quick decisions and being honest and efficient. Everyone will try to pocket a little something, and those who strive to help the people end up being neglected or stifled, giving them little passion or incentive. It is essential to respect the elders and put ourselves at their disposition, but also maintain our initiative to accelerate projects that are continuing to help the people in this region. Many new technologies are being introduced here as a population is pushed into the twenty-first century. The idea is to earn their support while motivating them and preparing them for the future, whether it is by teaching at the school, encouraging sports and youth activities, to developing and improving infrastructure and public facilities. In order for us to succeed, a fine balance has to be drawn between each group in order to have their respect, yet it is important to always be pushing forward to avoid getting tangled in their web of setbacks and catch-22’s.
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