Finding New Media in an Unmediated Culture

Our need for an internet connection in Conakry, so that students taking SOC 492/592 in Guinea and students taking the course on-line could communicate, has led to an interesting and at times frustrating ten days. In the 21st century, connecting to the internet seems quite normal in the U.S. – many Americans have high-speed connections at work and home, rely on WiFi at the coffee house, and use their Blackberries or I-Phones when traveling between connected sites. In Guinea, where about 70 percent of the population is illiterate, the business, academic and governing class – those who use the internet – is relatively small, and access to the internet much more limited.

When we arrived we were told internet access would be easy, that there was a “kiosk” very close to our house. Well, it turns out close does not mean walking distance; on our first excursion to the internet site we had to catch taxis and travel for about 15 minutes. The taxis dropped us off, and we walked across Conakry’s tenuous sidewalks, over piles of dirt, around trees and vendors, and into a small room with about 15 computers. We spent about 15 minutes unsuccessfully trying to connect and find a webpage before we decided this place wouldn’t meet our needs. We went out and walked up a very busy street a few blocks to another place, which was much better. The internet café was housed inside a compound with high walls, and we entered through a gate and walked across the courtyard and into the building. They had about 30 computers in three rooms, one of which was air conditioned, a relief in Conakry’s stifling heat. We had varying degrees of success connecting and finding e-mail and webpages – some spent an hour trying with no luck, while others had limited success reading and sending e-mail and checking their Facebook sites. The connection was slow and unreliable, and while we enjoyed the AC, using this as our primary means of connecting to the internet seemed like a poor solution. On a trip to downtown Conakry, at the very western end of the peninsula, we did find an internet café that had reasonably reliable service, but the trip to downtown is very long and somewhat expensive to do regularly.

Our next effort revolved around finding a way to get wireless in our house. Some of us had noticed when we booted our computers that a window appeared saying wireless networks were in range. We clicked and found a website by MouNaInternet, the company that runs the café downtown. On our second visit to the downtown café, on the Friday before we went to the islands, we asked about wireless service and we were told our house was out of range of their service. Apparently they had another office that was closer to our house, but the guy wasn’t sure if we could get wireless there or not. On Monday, I resolved to find out. It took all day to arrange a trip out of our house and to the office, but finally Ballack, one of the drummers here, took me in a taxi to find the office. Some of the students went along to see if they could check their e-mail. We drove in the taxi quite a distance – with each kilometer I became less convinced we would be able to find wireless from this office. Finally, we pulled into a “Total” gas station and went into the little convenience store, and in the back they had a small internet café run by MouNaInternet. They had the prices for wireless service posted, but again the guy there said our house was out of range of their service. They had about 8 computers, all of which were in use, so none of us got to check our e-mail. We did take advantage of the convenience store to stock up on some snacks, though!

A guy who overheard our conversation with the MouNaInternet technician offered another solution. He said the national telephone company, Sotelgui, offers internet service in the house, and that it costs 500,000 Guinean francs (about $120) to set it up. Ballack said he knew the director of Sotelgui, who lived nearby. We decided to pay him a visit. By now it was dark and we set off down the busy boulevard for a few blocks, then turned into a very dark alley and walked a couple blocks. In a small opening there was a group of guys standing around, and one of them turned out to be one of our drumming instructors. We talked to him for awhile, then went to the house of the Sotelgui director. He was watching an address by the president of Guinea on TV, and he invited us into his clean and comfortable house and we sat down. Some people removed their shoes as they entered, but he insisted it wasn’t necessary. He kept one eye on the TV as Ballack explained our situation in Soussou, the primary language in Conakry. The director got up and went into another room and came out with several business cards. He said he would talk to us during business hours and passed out the cards. He was very cordial, and we thanked him and left. We went back and found Sekou, the drumming teacher, who had a portable CD player and he showed us a video of his drumming and dancing company. The dancing was very impressive, and featured one of our dance instructors. The mosquitoes were beginning to get bothersome, so we said good-bye to Sekou and walked down the dark alley to the boulevard, where we found a taxi and returned home.

On Tuesday morning, Ballack and I took a taxi downtown to the Sotelgui office to see about getting our house connected. The taxi ride is long and interesting. Conakry is on a long and fairly narrow peninsula that juts out into the Atlantic, and our house is near the base of the peninsula. Each trip is somewhat different, as there are a surprising number of automobiles in Conakry and traffic can be very difficult. About half the cars are taxis, and among the rest are many large SUVs, Mercedes, and other very nice vehicles. To avoid traffic, taxi drivers weave back and forth across the peninsula looking for the best route. On this trip, we drove right alongside the national mosque, a beautiful building with four tall minarets and five large domes on the roof. We also drove along the southern rim of the peninsula, where there is an interesting mixture of large luxury apartments and shantytowns right on the beach. We finally made our way downtown and were dropped off at the Sotelgui office. Ballack asked for money to put minutes on his cell phone, then called the director. The director was out, but we managed to get by the soldiers at the gate by showing his business card. We went in and found the building with the director’s office, and right outside ran into the director’s son, who Ballack knows. He said his father wasn’t in the office, but that we could go upstairs and wait if we wanted. He accompanied us to the director’s office, and the secretary said he was in a meeting and would be back later. She pointed us to where we could find assistance in getting connected to the internet.

We went back downstairs, and out the gate, then crossed the street to the main post office, where Sotelgui has offices. We went in and found our way to the back and entered a small, crowded office where a guy was talking on the telephone. We sat and waited until he finished, and asked him about internet service. He directed us to the front, where we spoke with a woman who explained their service in French. Ballack translated for me, but somehow I thought I wasn’t getting the whole story. I asked him to translate several questions for me, and each time the answer was a version of “yeah, yeah, it’s OK.” She took my information, which included going outside where a young boy was running a photocopy machine, and paying Gf5,000 for a copy of my passport, and she prepared a form for us. While she was filling out the form, the director called and spoke to her, which no doubt greased the wheels a little. She handed us the form, and we took it, went out, went back across the street, got past the guards again, and went around the back to a window where we paid the Gf500,000. The payment was in bills of Gf5,000, which are stacked in groups of ten – nine bills folded over with a tenth bill folded around to hold the stack together. A woman behind the counter quickly counted all the bills while another entered our info into the computer. She stamped the form and gave us a receipt, stamped and signed, and we went back out the gate, across the street, and presented the receipt to the woman. She needed a copy of the receipt which required another visit to the boy and his Xerox machine, and finally we were done. She gathered the phone and modem, then got out a fancy bag with the Sotelgui logo on it, put the items in the bag and handed them to us. We went out and, again, back across the street and past the guards. The director’s son helped us find a technician to be sure we could get the machine installed in our house. He came with us as we found a taxi and took a ride back to the house.

This ride was pretty eventful as well. We saw a near riot on the way – many young people running out into the street throwing rocks. Ballack said to the driver “let’s get out of here,” and we managed to get away before being dragged into whatever was going on. The driver pulled off the main road and was negotiating side roads to avoid traffic and as we arrived at another main road we were waiting for an SUV in front of us to turn right. There seemed to be a commotion up to the right, and suddenly the SUV began backing up. Our driver, an elderly, devout Muslim man in full regalia, laid on the horn but the SUV still backed right into us. There was a loud sound of crunching metal, which I guessed came mostly from our small taxi against the large SUV. The taxi driver got out and just then several soldiers walked up and directed the SUV to the side. At first I thought it was because of the accident, but as many more soldiers swarmed into view I realized something else was going on. A large contingent of soldiers walked by clearing a path, and then a large throng of people came by, with one clearly important man dressed in white in the middle. This was followed by some cars, some with armed soldiers riding on the outside. I later learned this was a protest to regain a soccer field that had been taking over for parking, and that the man in white was the mayor of Conakry, who was showing his support for the protestors. After the throng passed, our taxi driver went over and gave some strong ideas to the SUV driver, but apparently didn’t have much else in the way of recourse, so he got back in and we went on our way. He would have to live with a dented grill.

When we got back to the house, the technician very efficiently hooked up the phone and modem, installed the software on my computer and showed me how to connect. It is very simple and works reasonably well. He installed the software and configured everyone else’s computers as well. This was then followed by a heated shouting match with several people from our house negotiating the technician’s fee for coming out and installing our service. Ballack thought his services were worth about Gf30,000, and he wanted Gf100,000. This seems to be a typical part of everyday life – negotiating everything, particularly prices. The range between 30,000 and 100,000 seems to be typical of how differently people value their services. I let them argue, not understanding too much but getting the gist, and eventually the technician went off with 30,000 plus his taxi fare back downtown (which is Gf20,000), promising to cut off our service. Such is life in Guinea.

Finding the internet in a culture where people don’t use the media too much, and where the media that exist are strictly controlled, is a challenge, indeed! Negotiating the bureaucracy, paying every individual for their services, and finding the right connection, such as having the director make a phone call at the right moment, help get things done in a culture where getting things done is less of a priority than engaging in the fun and sometimes frustrating rituals of social interaction. One day in Conakry provides numerous lessons in sociology, in viewing the incursions of modernity into a traditional culture, and how interactions in the absence of strong legal institutions always involves negotiations and power. We wouldn’t be able to do it without our Guinean hosts, but trying to figure out exactly what they are up to at times is equally confusing. It all makes for great drama, sometimes great comedy, and always a great education.