Surveying Africa
Have you ever eaten fried intestines for breakfast or drunk innumerable glasses of sweet green tea in one day? How about spending the night in a dried-up riverbed? Or transporting five policemen—for your personal protection? I have ... on my first language survey trip in Africa.
At 5 a.m. my colleague “Jeanne” and I drove off in our fully loaded Land Cruiser. Our cargo: two twenty-five-liter containers of filtered water, a water filter, a camping gas cooker, toilet paper, a box of car-repair items, two spare wheels, a metal box of equipment for language recording, camp beds, mats, and personal belongings. Plus several large, three-pound blocks of sugar and green tea—gifts for the people we hoped to interview. Oh yes, and a box of food to last us three weeks.
Ahead of us lay fifty miles of tarred road and two hundred eighty miles of dirt road—an eight-hour stretch—taking us to a regional town where we would make our first obligatory visit to government officials.
The next day, we continued on to the language area we needed to survey, another two hundred miles. This section of dirt road was in great shape, and I finally started to enjoy driving. At noon we arrived in the main town of the language area and went straight to greet officials. The governor kindly invited us for lunch, having a sheep slaughtered and prepared for us. Then we rested in his wife’s home.
But while we were not watching, he had the luggage of five policemen loaded onto the roof of our four-wheel-drive vehicle, even though we had explained to him that, in addition to the interpreter, we could take only two more people, and that we didn’t want any baggage on the roof.
“The policemen are for your personal protection, and three of them need to be transferred to a village,” he replied matter-of-factly.
Our car was convenient for his purposes, of course, and we just had to accept it with a smile. We didn’t manage to leave as early as we would have liked, and so we drove the last stretch in the dark.
All of a sudden, three-to-six-feet-deep potholes, actually makeshift wells, appeared in the sandy road, but I was able to get past them safely. An angel must have spread his wings over them.
We arrived at our destination, and the regional official welcomed us warmly. He knows our organization and appreciates our work. Even though it was already late, his staff slaughtered and roasted a sheep for us. Two sheep in one day—a record in language survey history!
The following day brought interviews, recordings, and travel to other villages. We were glad for our policemen, who pointed out the right paths, helped us push the car through sand, and guided us through seemingly impassable riverbeds—and out of them, over steep, rocky ground. Did you know cars can climb stair-shaped rocks?
In a village at what seemed to be the end of the world, the people welcomed us with a salad of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, followed by enormous, thirst-quenching watermelons. Along the dry riverbeds, fields of tomatoes stretched out as far as we could see. Even though the land had not had rain for four months, water must have still been accessible.
We spent the night in complete security under the stars, sleeping in the soft sand of the riverbed.
When we returned to the capital, a final challenge remained: steering the car through rush-hour traffic at dusk. Many vehicles have no lights, or weak lights, and street lights are nonexistent. Hard-to-see, dark-skinned people stroll along the side of the road. But we arrived home safely, tired and happy, having clocked 1,735 miles. We sensed God’s help and protection many times.
And our food box was almost as full as at the beginning of the trip—that’s African hospitality!
—“Elisabeth” is a European who has done language survey work since 2003 in western Africa.
