Buying Drums in Conakry

As we now are past the first day of summer in the northern hemisphere, we are into the rainy season (sometimes called “winter”) in the northern tropics. And we have seen evidence of increased rains already. For our first couple of weeks here, it mostly rained about 4 am, and we had many days with no rain. But over the past week we have had a couple of good rainstorms during the day, as well as three very strong nighttime thunderstorms. A couple days ago we had a storm that was so strong that it knocked over much of the palm thatch covering our patio, where we have been taking drumming and dance lessons. They removed the whole covering, giving the patio a very different appearance.

Thursday was a very rainy day in Conakry. We had a strong storm in the morning, shortly after dawn. And another storm came through in the early afternoon. It was overcast and cool for the rest of the day – the first day of reasonably cool weather since we have arrived. Some members of our group were interested in buying djembes, so several of us loaded into two cars and headed downtown with Ballake, one of our drum teachers, to locate some drums. We hit the downtown just as the storm began, and spent our time there in a heavy rain.

There was a lot of traffic in Conakry this weekday, and it took us awhile to get to the western end of the peninsula. Our taxi driver ran out of gas early in the trip, but fortunately we were near a gas station, so he took a small can over and put a small amount of gas in his tank. We have found that many people here buy gas in small quantities – a gallon at a time or so, and keep their tanks near empty most of the time. It seems most taxi trips involve a stop at a gas station for a small amount of gasoline to complete the trip. And vendors sell litre bottles of gasoline and other fuels on the street all over town. Such is the hand-to-mouth existence for many in West Africa.

Once we were back on our way, we ran into trouble with the law. In the middle of a traffic jam, two policemen were pulling cars over, apparently in search of bribes. We got pulled aside. Fortunately, one of our security guards is an officer in the military, and he was in the other car right behind us, in uniform. He got out and yelled at the police officers, who quickly backed off and sent us on our way. We repeated this again as we got closer to downtown, with two female police officers.

We finally stopped in a neighborhood at the very western end of the peninsula, and walked through the rain to a house. We went down a narrow path between two buildings to a courtyard with a large tree growing at the far end. There were a couple of women in the doorways of the homes across the courtyard, and two doors in a separate house at our end of the yard. We could see over the roofs to some of the taller buildings in the neighborhood. Several of us stood under an overhand in the tin roof, as the rain was getting harder. A couple of guys brought out a few djembes and began showing them to members of our group.

They shuttled us along the small walkway at the edge of the building into a short passageway, and then through a door into a very small and very dark room. The roof was leaking in several spots, so all of us – about eight in total – crowded in, trying to find our way in the very dim light provided by the door, and seeking a dry spot to stand. One of the hosts produced a candle, which lit up the room, revealing a bed with a guy sleeping on it. The bed took up about two thirds of the room, and there was barely enough room for all of us to stand. There were several unfinished drums outside the door, now getting soaked in the rain. They opened a small storage room next to the door and began bringing out drums. The members of our group who were looking began negotiating a price, with Ballake doing the translating.

I was just along for the ride, so I stepped out of the room and went back to the courtyard, which now was completely flooded. I stood under the overhang, trying to avoid the leaky spots. Two girls walked into the courtyard and stepped into the pool, which reached their ankles. Wally, who also was mostly along for the ride, came out of the room and stood next to me. After a couple of minutes, a boy of about 12, wearing only blue soccer shorts, brought a small wooden bench over and set it next to us, then put a cloth over it. I thanked him for this generous gesture and he went back across the courtyard to his mother, who was washing some clothes in front of their small house. The people living in this courtyard are about as poor as people can get, but it is important for them to make a stranger feel comfortable as best they can. I was very touched by their kindness.

As we sat there, we saw several bolts of lightening, followed almost immediately by loud thunder. Two of the lightening bolts seemed to hit very nearby. I commented to Wally that I hoped the house had a lightening rod! After awhile the rain subsided a little and the courtyard began to drain into a large opening in the corner.

Soon, the members of our group emerged from the room with smiles on their faces. Apparently they had managed to negotiate a price that satisfied them. The drums they purchased were not ready yet, though, so they will have to return on Sunday to pick them up.

As we left the house I waved at the boy and woman across the courtyard and thanked them. They smiled and waved as we walked back down the passage to the street. The rain had let up some and there was a large branch from a tree across the street that had broken off and was blocking traffic across half of the street. I saw that it had broken from the tree and wondered if it had been hit by lightening.

We walked the other direction and went a couple blocks in search of a taxi. We stood on a busy corner as Ballake and a friend (apparently another drummer) who had mysteriously appeared halfway through the trip looked for a taxi. They finally found one and negotiated a trip back to our home in Conteya – a good distance away, but the typical fare is Gf 20,000, or about four U.S. dollars. The traffic was a mess on the way home as well. Just outside of downtown we got to a bridge and found the underpass completely flooded. Only the largest trucks and SUVs were venturing going in. Everyone else was looking for some way around it, which led to cars heading in many different directions. We managed to inch our way up a down ramp, and at the top some police officers had shown up and were directing traffic, so we got out of it. Our taxi driver snaked through back streets to avoid traffic for most of the rest of the trip home.

Despite the rain and inconveniences, this was an interesting excursion into one side of the world of drumming in Conakry. The drummaker clearly had a successful business – he had a number of drums he was working on – but lived in a tiny room (perhaps with others although we never found out all the details) in a very poor neighborhood. The work is very labor intensive and I’m sure the cost of his raw materials is going up – the hardwoods of Guinea are used for many things, including a fairly thriving furniture industry which supplies Europe with beds and armoires. For his work, he is able to get about Gf 250,000, or sixty U.S. dollars, per drum. It is a tough way to make a living for this craftsman, but seems to be similar to the experiences of many skilled people in this country.