01/11/2024 Bikepacking Sierra Leone Day 156 : You White People…

by Brian · Published January 11, 2024 · Updated March 3, 2024

“We know you white people don’t do anything without a purpose. What is your mission?” asked Mandor.

“I have no mission.”

“Ah, it took you 90 days and now you want the next person to try and go faster - to beat your record!” interjected Timothy.

“No! This isn’t about going fast, it’s about taking with people like you,” I replied.

I had stopped at place called “The Motorcyclists Union.” The guys called out to me, and since they didn’t use the kissing sound, I decided to stop and sit with them for a while. Today was a leisurely day, so time for a lot of chatting.

“Do you have a wife? Children?,” continued Mandor.

“A wife; I miss her.. but no children.”

“But what will be your legacy,” both Timothy and Mandor asked. They were huddled in close now, and seemed worried that I’d have no legacy.

“No, my wife and I are too old for children.”

Now they were really confused. “How old are you?” I told them and asked their ages. They were both 52.

Mandor said, “Ah, we know about you white people. In Europe, some white people have only one child. We see this and the people is asking, ‘what wrong with you?’”

You might be thinking that I’m getting annoyed at Mandor for referring to me as “you white people,” but actually I really liked him. He had sweet old-man eyes; cloudy like coffee and cream. His smile was gentle like that of a sage. We both had some good hearty laughs when I explained, “Not all white people are the same!” He understood.

“Your legacy will be this motor bike ride,” decided Timothy. “You will make a documentary and be rich.” He was serious. “So, are you going to Turtle Islands?”

Before I could answer, Mandor turned to Timothy and said: “I don’t think he is going to Turtle Islands.” We both smiled and high fived. Mandor gets it.

*********

Earlier in the day, I had stopped for water, and decided to sit in a chat with a couple of villagers. As usual, the crowd gathered around, and story time began. I knew to stick around because 3 young men and an elder all had good English. In this village, a 20-something named Foday would lead the discussion. Like everyone, he wanted to come to America. We discussed his friend who wanted to emigrate to France.

“He tried to go to France via Mali. Mali is wicked people. They flogged him in Mali. They capture you and call your family for money. If your family not giving the money, then they flog you and you die, they wicked people.”

His friend died seeking a better life. I teared up as we sat in that tight circle. I looked around at the kids’ solemn faces through my blurry eyes. I said, “I’m sorry about your friend.” We gave the lost friend got a moment of silence.

“Foday, I really do hope that someday you can come to America,” I said - and meant it too. Foday brightened up and put his hand on the shoulder of the guy in a red shirt seated next to me, “You know what we call this brother? We call him ‘America’ because he wants to go to America so much!” Red shirt smiled bashfully.

With all the struggle of yesterday fresh in my mind, I said: “America is a nice place. A very nice place.” And boy did I mean it.

**********

You’ve just read the main stories for today. As I rode this morning, though, I had dictated another story! Dictation and filming are much easier on smooth pavement. I wrote these journals for me as much as for you… so if you still have time:

Bonus stories:

Last night, I pulled into Bo after dark. I was exhausted. Not from the cycling; I love that part. I was drained by the people. While trying to get a room, guests came up to me and said, “Hey friend! I saw you today! Wow, you came from Freetown!” A few minutes into the conversation, other guests come, “hello, my friend…” we start over. I stand outside in the dark, soaked and sticky - hoping the hotel manager will interrupt these guys and take me to room where I can close the door and turn on the AC before the electricity goes off. Unfortunately, that plan did not work.

It’s a nice big clean room. This hotel is clearly used by the staff of various aid organizations. I see two small tables, a white woman at one; white man at the other. Both are operating laptops, and at each table, there are a couple of black men sitting on lower chairs like students, following along and nodding heads as the white person messes with the laptop. All of their faces are illuminated by the glow of the battery powered computer. I am curious what they are doing, but don’t interrupt.

I’ve received a few thoughtful messages in response to some of the things I have seen. There is a lot of turmoil in my mind on how to talk about this journey. Who wants to hear about negative stuff? People (myself included) like to read positive and uplifting stories. If you remember my video game “battery” analogy from yesterday, I think it is safe to say that when you read an uplifting story, your emotional battery gets a little boost. I don’t want to bring my readers down, nor do I want to have to pretend that everyone is nice or happy.

I think I have made a mistake of trying to superimpose interpretations over what I’m seeing. That isn’t fair. Just as an example, remember how I said it was “sad” that people cannot do simple arithmetic the other day? Now-a-days, I’ll even hold up fingers to specify how many items I want. I held up 8 fingers the other day, and the guy looked at my hands several times. He furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between my hands and the bags of water he was grabbing for me. In the end, I was given 10 bags of water, not 8. This happens a lot; half the time in my favor. This seemed impossible to me: How can a people not even count fingers? Fortuitously, I happened to listen to a rebroadcast of Radiolab’s episode “Numbers”… and suddenly with a new interpretation, it made sense. This isn’t sad… it’s just a different way of seeing the world, and that is not bad.

https://radiolab.org/podcast/numbers-2312

(If you decided to listen, this is a multipart episode, and I’m referring to the first story where they talk about how babies and Brazilians who never went to school perceive numbers in a completely different and fascinating way).

The reason I bring this example up is that my interpretation of what I’m seeing can very well be wrong. I saw Egrets flying into fires two days in a row. I interpreted that they trying to save their nests. Stan Hooper and Brian Warkentine proposed a totally different explanation: That they were catching disturbed insects. It turns out that the Cattle Egret will ride on the back of a rhinoceros, and as the Rhino walks disturbing the grass, insects will fly up becoming meals for the birds. This gives credence to the Hooper-Warkentine theory.

In the same way, I could easily be wrong about my interpretations of the water situation, and the outcomes of aid organization work. These are both topics that I’m not qualified or knowledgeable enough to discuss. Though the observations are real, the interpretations are merely my opinion.

*******

I stepped out of my room this morning, and a 27 year old man wearing a shirt emblazoned with the hotel logo approached me, “hey my friend! You look like that tennis player from Spain. What is your name?”

“Brahim”

“Hey, Brahim, can I get your WhatsApp so we can work on a project together?”

I show him the back of my phone and he takes a photo of my contact info. I willingly give my WhatsApp to everyone because it is my way of deeper discovery. Where will the conversation lead? There is no obligation on my part, and I get to learn more about people and their intentions.

“We need to discuss my project. John F Kennedy came to Bo to help the people. Now, the land owners are taking the land designated by John Kennedy from the people. We can discuss the business later on WhatsApp.”

I stood there and tried to question him: “What are you talking about? What exactly is the problem? Who is doing what to who?”

“We will do our business on WhatsApp. Can I expect you to support this business with me, my friend?”

“Sure, write me.”

I can’t tell you what the plan is yet, because he seemed to be talking in circles. One thing is for certain, though: we’re now business partners, me and my millionth friend.

Photos:

Relax and let us not dispense your cash and deduct it from your account anyway. Ha! —

I stayed at an aid worker hotel last night. It’s tough out there; no arguing that. This is probably a morale boost for the workers. I read these as two hotel staff members had a loud argument in the parking lot. —

Signs, signs, everywhere there’s signs. —

I tried to talk to him, but he spoke no English. We ended up riding together without talking for a while. He was pretty eager to race, though. Eventually, we started drafting each other. When we got to a military checkpoint, I bought 2 packs of cookies and gave him one of the packs. 🍪

I have many types of interactions. This is a common one, accidentally caught on camera because I had pulled over with the video running I my handlebar. —

I was hunched over my phone when the Chinese man came to make me look up. I think he saw my skin color and thought I might be Chinese - until I looked up. Then he walked away looking disappointed and apologetic. That was on the video too, but I had to crop it to 30s for Strava. —

This is Timothy. He was a little overbearing. Notice how he grabbed my hand for the photos (of which there were many). —

Strava Comments:

Corrine L.

Great videos. I don't mind your interpretations of what is happening. I think most of us know you may or may not be correct but it's all interesting to see and hear.

Mark G.

"Brahim", as always, I loved, the stories today. I am sure a few of us will be doing some JFK research. All the videos and short snippets of conversations were fun to see/hear. With all the English(language) I assume you're enjoying the deeper conversations. (from one lucky to be a Brahim friend)

K K.

Love the videos, thanks!!

Paula G.

Agreed...love the speaking videos!! Too bad you didn't get to have fresh fish for dinner.

Tracey A.

I love the stories of your day, the photos and the videos. It was so nice to hear all the different voices and chatter.

Ann L.

Even the sad stuff is interesting. That’s just life, the good and the bad. The depleting and recharging of the batteries. As my step dad likes to say “we would never appreciate the good without the bad. Keep sharing as the spirit moves you.

Janet W.

I think most of those signs have good advice - for everybody, not just people who live in Africa. Maybe I wouldn't trust the banks too much. And it would be easy to build ATMs protected from the elements, inside a cubicle and maybe with a guard nearby if needed. It seems like people don't hide their cash, what they have of it, and you never feel in danger of being robbed. The videos are great. We can see "what it was like out there" while sitting at home on the couch.

Santosh M.

❤️

Marty P.

Awesome post Brian! I read those signs in the hotel(?) over and over. I could be a much better person if I practiced more of those life lessons on how to act and treat other people. I had an atm in Belgium deduct from my account but didn’t dispense it. When I got home I disputed the withdrawal. It took them a month to finally close the case and

Marty P.

Continued…credit my account. You’ll get your money back eventually. The only opinion that I differ with you on is that the USA is not as nice of a place to live in than it used to be with all the mass shootings bigotry and racism.

Vicki C.

I don’t feel like you post very much bad stuff at all. of course there are bad things that happen all over and we’d rather have good news…. human nature. But thats what we are learning through you-about various parts of Africa and even various cultural regions of Sierra Leone. We would never know any of this without your stories.

Sօʀƈɛʀɛʀ 🅅.

Ah Brian! There are definitely many variants to the human condition. I wonder where that term, "the human condition", was first coined? Following this trip is a bit like watching a sporting match or a motor race because if you don't watch you might miss something - something like a crash or a score. What I mean is that the scores are like good news and the crashes are the bad news. We call it "schadenfreude" when we are entertained or find joy in in someone's misfortune (I suppose that's as long as it's not your own misfortune). I've spent far too much time pondering this in life. I'll expand a bit anyway. While books are written on this, it's easier to simplify life and not chase this tale. It doesn't feel right to speculate upon certain things to me. For if I see someone acquainted with, let's say, just for example, take on some adventure like climb a tall difficult tree, I'll reflexively consider their chances of success and the potential tragic outcomes. Then observing them climb the tree and climb down is a story with built in suspense. Let's say I think the person can't climb the tree or make it down safely and they fall like I thought they would, then my battery is charged because I was right. Let's say I tell them not to climb it is too dangerous and they don't. Let's say I don't like them and I hope they fall. Let's say I think they can make it no problem and they do. So on and so on. Well, we are like a virus, just figuring out how to take advantage. That's what we do sometimes. Brian, it's up to the reader to parse your interpretations and opinions. Freedom of expression is yours, and ours. Maybe waiting for you to slip up is unbearably suspenseful. You are having these experiences. You choose. I have decided you will come home okay in the end and that will be good.