Epilogue

Well, 30 short hours in airports and airplanes, and I'm happily back at home now.

With three updates which occurred to me while I was on the road.

First, in an effort to keep my weather reporting as accurate as possible, I should amend my last report which would have you thinking that there's a significant change in the weather once the dry season starts. The fact is that there's really not much of a change at all. It just rains less. Otherwise, the temperature pretty much year round is going to be the same -- somewhere between 73 and 88 degrees every day. And the clouds will come and go. Just during the rainy season, you can expect that there'll be water dropping out of them more often.

Second, after my second pass through Charles DeGalle Airport in Paris, my outlook on the place has changed considerably. This time through, it was a very enjoyable experience, unlike the first time around. This time we came into Terminal 2E, which is very nice and extremely modern -- and my connecting gate was just down the hallway. I'm thinking that flights coming out of Africa may get routed through the nicer terminal, while the flights into Africa -- well, they must figure what the heck, these folks need to get indoctrinated. And then again, maybe the fact that I was able to sneak into the Air France lounge (thanks, Eric!) may have helped to improve my outlook. In any event, I no longer dread the thought of going through Paris, should I have another opportunity to do so.

And finally, some very very good news. At one point, way back in the beginning of all of this, I think I made a comment about cats -- and how there just didn't seem to be any of the domesticated types of them over there. Or at least I hadn't seen any at that point. Well, I am very happy to be able to close out my reporting duties by putting all the cat lovers' minds at ease. Cats are alive and well in Equatorial Guinea!

The End

Well, folks, the time has come for me to call it a blogging day. I'm heading home tonight. And honestly I have to say that I can't wait to get there.

But I'm truly going to miss this place. It's an incredible, wonderful little island that I've had the unique privilege to be a part of over the past nearly three months. The whole experience has been one that I won't soon forget. There were the trips into the incredible countryside. And the Sooner football games that started at 2am and ended as the sun was coming up. And the chance to get to know a country I hadn't even heard of much before my arrival -- a country full of arguably some of the most humble and friendly people you will ever meet.

There's a lot for someone like me to learn here. Like compassion, for example. The natural tendency to complain about these people who don't smell like us disappears after you've been here for a while -- once you realize that a great many of them have so very little. And that a bath means going down to the local river and doing the best you can to keep yourself, your kids, and your clothes clean. You have to admire them. But that's all part of how Equatorial Guinea grows on you.

And some of us learn to do other new and interesting things. Like cooking, for example. I've never really been much for doing much in the kitchen, apart from picking up the plate of food that some other kind soul (AKA, Kathy) has fixed. Here, it's been a much different story. It's provided me with the chance to learn how to fend for myself in a grocery store, fix meals on a hapless little electric stove top appliance, and to actually enjoy doing it. I've still got a lot to learn, but I've made some progress while I've been here.

And lastly, there's been this blog thing. What a fun pastime it's provided me with (okay, with an occasional game of online cribbage tossed in). Thanks, Sam (and Jess), for giving me the inspiration. And thanks, Katie, for being one of my loyal blogger groupies.

Okay, that's going to have to do it for this chapter at least. I'll close by just encouraging anyone with the least inkling to visit Africa to consider this little place. May your adventures here be as wonderful as mine have been.

As they say here, "gracias por haberme acompañado durante este viaje tan increíble" -- thanks for having joined me on this incredible journey, my friends.

EGian Sights and Sounds

This place has been full of surprises -- some of them small and seemingly almost unnoticeable; others, bigger and way more obvious.

Let me start with some of the more interesting sights. It's hard not to be fascinated by the abundance of animal life here -- and that's without even getting into the monkeys, the jungle cats, and the turtles that attract the attention of folks throughout the world.

By just going out your front door, you're almost certain to see a variety of lizards of assorted sizes and colors.

And occasionally, there's no need to even open the front door; the little guys aren't above dropping by on their own. This cute little fellow showed up in my office just this morning. I think he just wanted to play.

The lizards here, quite simply, are everywhere.

Then there are the birds, which contribute not just to the sights but are a significant part of the sounds. Walking through the jungle, it's like a bird symphony that goes on almost constantly, with sounds ranging from the high-pitched tweet tweet of the little guys to the louder, more ominous squawks from the bigger fellows. Catching a glimpse of the little fellows isn't always easy, but it's hard to miss the big guys. I'd have to think that there are almost as many blackbirds with their uniquely white chests around here as there are lizards. The smart lizards tend to keep their distance from the birds; while the not-so-smart ones wind up as blackbird lunch. This guy was trolling along the wall outside my office the other day, perhaps just coincidentally around noontime.

And then there's the occasional major surprise appearances. Like these guys, for example. I had to wonder whether we were really on an island in Africa when they suddenly appeared on the road out of nowhere. Sort of a scene I might have expected to see in Pamplona, Spain. Fortunately, though, these fellows weren't on the prowl looking for liquored up fools to trample -- even if they do just by coincidence speak the same language as their Pamplonan cousins. Probably just as good that I had left my red bandana in the room that day.

Just one of the more unforgettable Kodak moments I'll have over here.

And then there are the flowers. The gazillions of flowers that grow everywhere. And enjoy their life over here with the warm weather and frequent water treatments. Here are but just a few of them.

Heck, if you didn't know better, you might just think we're in the middle of a jungle over here.

AMEX Card, Anyone???

If a visit to Equatorial Guinea is somewhere in your future, the good news is that you probably won't need your American Express card over here. Or any other credit card, for that matter. They generally don't work here. It's pretty much cash only here, with the CFA (Communauté Financière Africaine) Franc being the currency that's recognized. It can make your business dealings very interesting sometimes. For example, if you were to choose to spend a night at the very upscale Sofitel Hotel in town where rates start at $414.53, your bill in CFAs for a night would come to 199,389.34 at today's exchange rate of 481.001 CFA/USD. With the biggest bill currently in circulation being the 10,000 CFA, you'll need a handful of them. You might want to allow just a few extra minutes come checkout time. Actually, I did just discover while checking the Sofitel rates on Expedia, that apparently they do in fact take credit cards there! They must be one of just a very few businesses here who do, though. So feel free to ignore what I've said here and come on over with your Amex Card in hand, if you'd like. If you're staying at the Sofitel, that is. If you're not and you're planning on doing any other shopping, you're pretty definitely going to need a big wad of CFAs.

And generally there just aren't a whole lot of bargains here. Among the few exceptions would be the fresh bread available at the local panadería -- the best deal on the island -- for 50 CFAs (just over 10 cents) per small loaf. And then there are the beers ($0.78 per 16oz can) and the box wines ($1.42 per liter) which rival the cost of bottled water ($0.83 per 2 liter bottle when bought in quantities) and are less than a box of orange juice ($1.65 per liter).

And at $2.76, perhaps a gallon of diesel deserves a spot on the bargains list. Or not, depending on the price of oil. Here, gas prices at the pumps may not fluctuate like they do in the States -- just my impression, partly based on the fact that you won't find the prices posted anywhere other than on the pump itself. But I've only made two stops for gas during my time here, with the diesel going for 350 CFAs and the unleaded at 480 CFAs ($3.79). I'll have to check them again, should I be filling up again.

If you're interested, here's a sampling of prices I've encountered over the past couple of month, for the most part at the local grocery stores:

Rock Gardening

We have a little fellow who comes by every few weeks to cut the grass around our place. While I appreciate most all yard crews, I'll have to admit that I have a special regard for the fellows who don't mind an occasional encounter with the snakes in the grass. If I were a snake, I could come up with at least three good reasons to dislike grass crews -- they make noise; they step on me; and they mess up my hiding place -- all of which would cause me to want to bite the bejesus out of the next one to come near me.

But the most curious thing about yard workers over here is that none of the ones I've seen have caught on to the idea of lawn mowers. They all show up with their weed whackers and spend hours upon hours whacking away at what would otherwise be about a thirty minute job with a sit-down mower. And it's not like they get paid by the hour; it's just that they prefer a good weed whacker.

So I asked our little man the other day if they just don't have lawn mowers in this country. To my surprise, he said that they do. "So why don't you use one?" I asked him. "Rocks," he said, "they mash up the blade." "And what about snakes?" I asked him. "No problem," he says, "I chop their heads off with the weed whacker." Okay, hard to argue with that sort of logic.

So I really have yet to see a lawn mower of any sort. But I have seen tons of weed whackers in action. Makes no difference how big the yard is -- this, my friends, is weed whacker country.

But it does seem as though there's a real job opportunity available here for any young Spanish-speaking entrepreneurs out there with a lawn mower handy.

Nigerian Sour Grapes

For all you foodies hoping that this one's going to be one for you, my apologies for the misleading title. It's actually about the rest of the amazing sports story that's just recently unfolded here with the girls' soccer tournament.

Assuming you've missed the CNN coverage, the EGian women did in fact beat the Nigerian women 1-0 in the semi-finals. But it was not without some much needed controversy to keep things interesting. After the loss, some of the Nigerian women were complaining that the EGian team not only had a few Brazilian imports on their team, but they claimed that they were also playing with some women who weren't exactly all women. There's apparently a more diplomatically correct word for these "women" with excessive amounts of testosterone but, whatever the correct term may be, the Nigerian women claimed that they got screwed.

That sort of set the tone for the finals, which pitted our EGian assortment against the South African team. I'm not sure what the official betting odds in Las Vegas would have been for that one, but I believe there were plenty of folks who, like me, weren't holding out much hope for the local team. So you can imagine how wild it must have gotten when the EGian gang actually DID beat the South Africans, 2-1, and won all the marbles. While I wasn't there to witness it myself, I did have a report from an unbiased, impartial observer to suggest that there was at least one very masculine-looking player on each of the two teams. Apparently, the South Africans opted to just fight fire with fire, but still ended up on the short end of things. Perhaps they could have used a few Brazilian ladies. Or men.

So the celebrations have begun here. With the Christmas decorations already lit up in the streets, it's only right that the many women's soccer team fans around town are also getting lit up. Anyone who's looking to have any real work accomplished by the EGians might just want to wait till sometime in 2009.

Sports Report

It's a big day for women's soccer here today, with the semifinals of the CAN Women's Games scheduled to start at 2pm. We've been told to expect that not much will be getting done this afternoon. If their Independence Day was any indication, we might more reasonably expect that very little other than women's soccer-related things will be happening for the next week or so. Should the local actually win, we might expect the celebrations to just ease us on into the Christmas holiday break.

In any event, our mostly EG girls team is 2-0 at this point, having already beaten Cameroon and Mali. It's a mostly EG team, with the addition of a few Brazilian ringers who have apparently been recruited to become EGians for a short while -- who do a lot to increase the odds of our extended Xmas break period. But on the other side of the draw are the South Africans, Nigeria, Ghana, and Tunisia. I really have no idea how good any of them might be, but I just sort of imagine that South Africa might have a pretty serious team.


We did actually get to see our girls win their first match against Cameroon, 1-0. That was the weekend before last. Quite an experience it was, not so much for the game itself but for the opportunity to see the packed stadium up close and personal. The halftime show was particularly entertaining, with two different groups of school children meandering onto the field and then doing some sort of slow-motion calesthentics. Riveting stuff it was. Then some fellow appears on the sidelines with a microphone and does a combo breakdance and song routine. Incredibly good stuff. Oh, and along the way, he would from time to time jettison various pieces of his clothing. That pretty much sealed it for me as being one of the finest halftime shows I've ever seen.

Weather Report

When something happens on time around here, it's worth noting. Officially, the dry season began here on Bioko island on the first of November. And to our surprise, it pretty much did. Some of us were having our doubts back in October, though, as a 60% chance of rain would be included in every day's forecast. And normally, it did rain at least once a day.

But then November got here and it all changed, not exactly overnight but it was at least more or less on the first when things started changing. And it's not that it never rains now; it just rains noticeably less. And you can actually even see a few brown leaves on some of the plátano trees that are everywhere.

But there are other noticeable signs that the dry season is upon us now. The dark clouds still come and go, but the rain just doesn't fall from them nearly as often or as much. And then there's now suddenly a breeze where before there hadn't been one before. The one constant has been the high, high humidity, which must just be more of a jungle thing than a weather thing. What I had never really felt before, though, was the breeze with air this heavy. It feels sort of like I'd imagine it would feel to have one of those big heavy, felt theater curtains blowing against you. In a hot theater. With a hot fan blowing. It's a different sensation.

And the weather forecast looks very different now than it used to. The temperature range is no longer the very predictable 73 to 88 that it used to be. It's now looking like it'll be a predictable 80-84 range, with the "comfort level" hovering somewhere up in the 90s. I think maybe "heat index" might be the better term to use. Today, for whatever the reason, it's warmer than usual, with a current temperature of 86 and a comfort level of 99. (Ugh, I'm really looking forward to that afternoon jog...) And it's overcast. And it did rain some earlier today, so we'll just have to call this one an exception to the norm.

Not exactly what they'd call fruitcake weather in New England -- but what the heck, we are in the tropics!

The BBPP

One of the more interesting and worthwhile undertakings on the island here is a non-governmental organization that goes by the name of "Bioko Biodiversity Protection Program" (BBPP). It's just a small group of people with the majority of them being college students doing an internship over here. I can only imagine how the conversation must go between the parents and the kids who come over here for several months. "Sure, mom, no need to worry -- I'll be in Africa with no way for you to contact me for long stretches. Oh, and we'll be camping out some of the time. In the jungle. With the snakes and spiders and things."

But the ones who do come over here are doing some pretty amazing things. The BBPP's primary objective is to work for the preservation of the seven species of monkeys that inhabit the island. They're also working with the leatherneck turtles that live on the southern beaches. Preservation in this case isn't just about protecting them from the traditional threats of nature. Here, unfortunately, the monkeys are hunted. (Note to self: Add monkey meat to the list of things I'm not gonna eat.) So the BBPP is also working to get the government here to acknowledge the problem and to make and enforce laws against killing the monkeys. Call it Equatorial Guinea's jungle version of Save the Whales.

The program recently attracted the attention of The National Geographic, with the result being an excellent couple of articles in their August 2008 magazine. Some of the pictures that the team took are simply amazing. And their story is pretty fascinating stuff, too. I'd recommend it to anyone. You can see it online at http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/08/bioko-primates/morell-text . The picture above is one of their shots, of a red-eared monkey.

More Heroics

It's amazing to see the panic that some of the things that exist around here can cause. Yesterday, the door to the office slammed open with what could only be described as an impassioned plea for a machete. Had it been a woman, I suspect that there would have been some serious screaming going on. But in this case it was one of our more macho guys, with just a little extra volume in his voice but an oh my god sort of look in his eyes. Since I had been somewhat involved in our last snake adventure, I apparently now have earned the distinction of being the keeper of the machetes and one of our resident snake slayers.


This time around, it was a shamefully small little snake that had been sighted on out back sidewalk. So sure, I thought, let me at him with this big ol' machete. And go after him I did. At this point, he's little more than headless corpse and one more notch on our machete.


It turns out that there was some good and bad news to accompany this story. The good news was that that little guy had apparently already been done in by the poison left the day before by our trusty team of fumigators. The somewhat disturbing news was that, according to the fellow who spotted him in the first place, he was a green mamba -- considered to be one of the more deadly snakes on the face of the earth. And he had been slitherng around right next to the base of our building. Yikes! We're just sort of hoping that he didn't get the chance before his none-too-untimely death to tell any of his friends about how much fun playing in our yard can be.

The Not So Arena Blanca

Arena blanca would, in most places, translate as white sand. Here, something apparently went a bit haywire. It's the name of a beach -- actually, while we're maybe trying to be accurate about things, it's probably more correct to refer to it as the beach, since it's considered to be the only really publicly accessible beach on Bioko island -- where you might expect to find some white sand. But there's not any. Which really shouldn't come as that big of a surprise, given that it's a volcanic island.

In any event, our ongoing adventures took us there this past weekend. I'm glad we went, so I can now at least say that I've been to the beach here. But I'll have to confess that I really didn't frollick around in the water much. Okay, make that none at all. But there were others who did, and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

To be fair, though, there really are other beaches here. One of them is probably just the continuation of the Arena Blanca beach to its south, and is supposed to also be available to the public -- just that there's no real road to get you right there.

And then there are the beaches at the southern tip of the island, inhabited more by all sorts of interesting turtles than by humans. The sand down there looks more inviting; it's just a question of figuring out how to get there. With no roads, it's pretty much a matter of finding a boat. Or backpacking there through the bush. I'm thinking I'm probably going to just have to settle for the National Geographic photos.

Barber Shop, Part II

Okay, in response to the hundreds of requests I've gotten so far, here's a shot to give you some idea of the job that Armando did on me. Actually, perhaps it was just a single request, but her vote counts for a lot in this house...





Don't get too worried about all the sweating going on. I had just finished playing for the West African Tennis Championships. Either that or just happy to have played a set on the ExxonMobil courts, with a high school friend of mine. I can save that story for another day.

A Visit to the Local Barber

I honestly can't even tell you the name of the place but, after more than a month without a haircut, today it was my turn to visit the local barber shop. Quite an experience it was. Among my major objectives was to avoid having to pay the exorbitantly high prices they can allegedly charge around here for a simple haircut. I had been told that a lot of the folks here go to "Ike" -- who they say does a good job, but charges something like $22. Ouch. I don't think I've ever coughed up more than about $18 -- but I'll admit to being plenty cheap when it comes to haircuts (okay, maybe just cheap in general). So given that Ike was out of my league, my careful research led me to this other place (again, name unknown) in the downtown area, down the street from the Lionking where we had our photos taken a couple of weeks earlier for our recently issued carnets.

So in we strutted, and I was soon seated by a nice young gentleman from Cameroon by the name of Armando who insisted that he and I were going to speak English to each other. I pretty much told him to just go for it. And go for it he did. I hadn't seen clumps of my hair falling like that since I was checking in to West Point and getting introduced to the Cadet Barber Shop.

But the truth be known, I think the guy did an admirable job, even if it was a bit heavier handed than I might have thought I needed. No problem, I figured, I should be in good shape from now until Christmas. And who the heck over here is really going to notice?

The onle disappointment in it all was that, despite my best efforts to do otherwise, I might just as well have gone to let Ike work on me. The charge for my "high and tight": 8,000 CFAs, or somewhere between $16 and $20, depending on the exchange rate. Hey, but I got a scalp massage included in my plan.

Pico Basilé

About two-thirds of the way up the island of Bioko sits a mountain known as Pico Basilé, which I have to say is an interesting place on at least a couple of counts. The first is that it's the rather majestic view that I get on a daily basis from the only window of my little office. It works out well for me not just for the beauty of it all, but also to be able to judge the cloud cover on any given day. Some days, I can see the entire mountain; on others, the clouds are so thick that the mountain disappears from view. The second item of interest: this is no small mountain. It's 3,011 meters high, or just call it 9,878 feet, which in my mind makes it plenty high, especially for an island this size.


So for our adventure this past Saturday, we took a trip to the top of the mountain. It took a while, with its being something like 12 miles of road to get there. But the road is fabulous, presumably the work of one of the many Arab-run road crews. It looks like it's brand new, but it could very well have been there for a while, just without a whole lot of traffic around to cause it any wear and tear. I mean, it's just not exactly part of the beaten path around here. But when tourism takes off here, they're definitely ready to make the trip to the highest point on the island part of the paid tour.


The view from up there is impressive, as is the drop in temperature and humidity. You'll just have to take my word on the temperature and humidity. But here are a few shots from up there...

An Unexpected Visitor

I suppose it was just a matter of time. It happened last Thursday. A couple of us were sent out on a mission, to check out our classroom across the way, not far at all down our dirt road. We had been cautioned that we probably should be a little bit careful as we entered, since it's a place that stays empty for long periods of time. Frankly, I sort of thought that they were being slightly overly dramatic about things.

So as I unlocked the front door, I was probably gently nudging the person I was with to hurry up and get inside. Things went south from there, though. She about floored me as she came flying out, saying something about "hay víbora adentro!" ...

Not to be confused with the millipede in the distance, the unwelcome visitor was next to the water bottle, hanging on the to the base of the chairs. Looked harmless enough.

But we opted to discontinue the tour at that point, and headed back instead to the ranch to work on a plan.

Heavily armed with two machetes and one broom, another member of our team and I headed back on over, prepared if necessary to sacrifice "todo por la patria."

To make a long story short, my partner performed heroically. He was able to push the snake around with the broom enough to be able to take a whack (or three or four) with the machete. Obviously, I guess it goes without saying that the photographer throughout all this had to have been at least equally as courageous as was my partner. The rest, as they say, was history. As it turned out, the snake was not necessarily such a small thing...

And there's a rather disturbing finale to the story. Both in our describing the snake to one of the locals and in doing some independent research of our own, it may be that our friend the snake was plenty dangerous. The local we spoke to said that he thought it may have been a black cobra and one of the more deadly snakes to be found around here. Worse yet was what we were able to find on the internet, where we found what looked to be this guy's hand twin, a snake called the Inland Taipan, which really shouldn't be found anywhere in EG. We can only hope that to be true, as the Inland Taipan is considered to be the most poisonous snake in the world. Yikes. At this point, we're looking into the possibility of just holding all of our classes outdoors, in the fresh air.

Shopping

Shopping here is always an adventure. In Malabo, there's just not a whole lot to shop for, other than food. For the less adventuresome, there's the biggest of the grocery stores "Martínez Hermanos" which usually has most everything you need, albeit at reasonably steep prices. They say it's best to go there during the week, with Thursdays maybe being the optimum day as shipments are rumored to come in on Wednesdays. Better to avoid weekends, if possible, as things can get a bit hectic with the crowds then. And by all means, you can forget about any mid-afternoon shopping. Among the few customs still practiced from their Spanish colony days is the siesta. Whatever's not been purchased by 1pm isn't going to happen until 4 or 5pm when the stores reopen after the siesta break.


Slightly more of an adventure are the smaller grocery stores, such as the "Guinaco" store right down the street from Martínez Hermanos. It's worth the trip there just for their homemade bread selections. But it's a much smaller place, with only two narrow aisles. So it can get crowded in a hurry. And the only way out is through the check-out line, so going just to browse may not be such a great idea.


While there are a few other of the smaller grocery stores in and around town, there aren't but a handful of them. One of the few good deals can be found at the semi-open air "panaderías" where a small loaf of fresh bread will cost you about 10 cents.


But for the true adventurist, it's hard to beat a trip out into the countryside. Heading south along the road to Luba, you'll run across plenty of roadside vendors ready to sell the fruits and vegetables from their own little plots of land. Plátanos are everywhere, but their prices have sky-rocketed, with a big bunch of them now going for upwards of $18. Beyond the other items you would typically expect to find in the tropics are a few surprises. First are the large snails, which apparently are considered to be a real delicacy. Then there are what can only be described as fat rats, which hang temptingly by their tails in groups on the sale racks. We haven't checked on their prices, but I'm taking a pass on them, even if they are real bargains. And finally there's the occasional "antelope" hanging on the rack. They look like pygmy versions of deer -- sort of like undernourished (and now unfortunately deceased) Rudolphs. I'll pass on them, too.

And then there's even one more option. Further out in the countryside you can actually sometimes find the folks gathering their vegetables from the fields. If you can find them, they seem to always be willing to sell direct. By cutting out the middleman, their prices are often much better than you'll find anywhere else. But this option is not for everyone, since it can involve a fair amount of trekking through the brush to find anyone.

And finally there's the public market in Malabo. Just getting there is an enormous challenge, with the roads to and from being virtually non-existent, and parking being a free-for-all. What would be considered by most western standards as bad to horrid conditions for a marketplace only get worse during this time of year, when the rains leave mostly mud for patrons and vendors alike to endure. This one's only for the very hearty shopper. After my one visit there, I vowed to myself to always appreciate a good shopping trip to Martínez Hermanos.

Critters

A very pleasant surprise has been the absence of one of the more worrisome little critters, the mosquito. I think I've seen all of about ten of them in two and a half weeks. By now, I'd have thought I would have already been on my second or third bottle of mosquito repellent, but there's been no need. Everyone still takes their malaria pills without fail, but at least so far the little guys who carry it aren't to be found.

But it has been interesting to check the outside walls around here to see what's crawling on them on any given day. Lizards of various sizes and colors are very common. I just saw what appeared to be almost like a miniature iguana, about 18 inches long, wandering across my balcony. He's the biggest one I've seen so far. This guy was probably only about the length of my hand...

And across the way on the opposite wall that same day was this cute little praying mantis which was maybe a couple of inches long...

And then there's a pretty fair-sized chameleon that likes to spend time around our office's air conditioning units. He's a handsome fellow, and probably about 10 inches in length.

Less photogenic are the spiders and snakes that cause varying degrees of fear and concern among folks here. There's been one major spider spotting, about a week ago, crawling around on our walls early one morning. He's now a dead spider.

Also in the not-so-photogenic category would be the rats that might otherwise hang around and be seen more often were it not for the regular fumigating (which includes "desratificación" which was a new Spanish word for many of us to learn). Surprisingly, you don't see cats anywhere.

But among the 4-legged critters that you do see are the dogs who routinely patrol our front gate in the evenings. Rumor has it that someone among us feeds them, although by looking at them it doesn't appear that any of them does too much eating. But they're a friendly bunch.

The Weather

It sort depends on who you want to believe and which part of the country you're living in as to what to expect from the weather. By most accounts, we're in the rainy season, which I personally would have to agree with. Without a doubt, what I can say is that since I've been here, it's rained A LOT -- normally about once a day, but by the buckets once it gets started. It can go on for an hour or so, or for several hours, but almost without fail every day. The forecasts for the month of October don't require just a whole lot of creativity -- with scattered thunderstorms, a 60 percent chance of rain, high humidity, and temperatures between about 72 and 87 degrees in every forecast. Unlike in East Texas, there's not a whole lot of commotion with thunder, lightning, and high winds; it's just very heavy rain. But then it'll stop, and it's pretty normal to then see the sun come back out again.

It's no wonder the jungle around here stays so green.

More of the Countryside

The Incredible Countryside

Scenes from One of the Old Cacao Plantations

Street Scenes in Malabo

They say that, on a good day, the capital city of Malabo has something like 100,000 or so people living there. Based on what we've seen driving through about noontime, I'd say that children must probably make up about half the population. They're everywhere, all in their various colorful school uniforms. I'm not sure how it is that they alll seem to be out on the streets at that time of day, but I'm guessing that they must be on half-day schedules to make use of limited school facilities.

There's not much ostentatious about Malabo. It's a very humble place, where the people are nice and crime's not a problem. And there are a few pretty nice hotels, all with rates calibrated for the significant number of guests from the oil community. And there are a handful of restaurants, offering a variety of cuisines ranging from Chinese to Senegalese to Philippino, to include a couple of the more local places such as the "Candy Place" and the "Pizza Place." Whether it's food or a room for the night, though, there are no bargains here. The cost of living is, rather unfortunately, based on newfound and considerable oil wealth, and not on the average Equatoguinean citizen who is anything but wealthy.