Throughout my five-year trip to all 54 African countries, I stayed with African families. Although sometimes I used Couchsurfing, most of my stays were serendipitous.
I picked up about 3,000 hitchhikers throughout the continent. Typically, at sunset, curious hitchhikers would ask me where I planned to sleep.
I usually replied, "I have no idea. I'll just camp somewhere."
Then they would often say, "Why don't you stay with my family instead?"
This happened repeatedly.
The accommodations were always humble, but I loved seeing the daily life of the average African. It's better than what most people imagine.
Even my car mechanics would invite me. It would often take mechanics weeks or even months to "repair" my car. A day or two later, I'd be back in the shop. In Guinea, Alfred fixed my car for a couple of weeks. To help me save money and avoid hotels, he invited me to stay at his house.
Alfred was the only man in his household. His wife, Genevieve, had given birth to four daughters. Their oldest was Rose (16 years), then came Florence (12), Félicité (8), and a baby named Odile. Everyone in the family (except the two youngest) was robust.
Guineans do a curtsey bow when they shake the hand of someone of higher social status than them (like your boss or an adult if you are a child). Alfred’s workers and his daughters all did this when they met me. None of them had ever seen a white man up close. Curious neighbors came to see me, which made me feel like a zoo animal.
To confuse the planet, their flags use the same colors.
Alfred’s home was humble but functional. The ceiling had holes. The walls hadn’t been painted for decades. Instead of doors, they had a sheet to slide over each doorway. Every morning the women fetched non-potable water from their well to use for bathing and washing dishes. The girls would sweep the dirt lot, which they shared with another household. Males never did any chores.
The city of Labe rarely had electricity. Whenever it flicked on, the children would jump up and down in joy. The whole neighborhood cheered. Power would usually stay on for only one or two hours. People frantically charged their phones and portable lights. When the power was cut, a big sigh of disappointment would roll through the neighborhood. While eating dinner under a single dim light, I asked the 16-year-old Rose what percentage of her peers were married. She recalled, “By the end of the last school year, 12 out of 17 of my classmates were married.” Rose added that in Guinea it’s officially illegal to marry someone who is under 18 years old, but everyone ignores the rule by simply having informal ceremonies. They don’t declare their marriage to the state until the wife turns 18. Rose was the only Christian in the class. Rose said that the custom of marrying under 18 was purely a Muslim practice. About 85 percent of Guineans are Muslims.
Guinea is a cash-based economy, but its biggest bill (20,000 Guinean francs) is only worth $2.20. It was introduced in 2015. Before that, the biggest bill was 10,000 francs. The most I could withdraw from a bank ATM was $88, which produced a brick-sized stack of currency.
Guinea, like many African countries, functions with severely worn out bills. They're torn, creased in a million ways and seem like they were printed before China invented paper.
When people accuse Africans of laundering money, you might think that Africans put their money through a laundry machine every day.
What's curious is that Africans are far more critical about aesthetics when they judge American dollars. Suddenly, the most subtle tear, a smudge of lipstick or a funny smell will make the African refuse the American greenback.
In Nigeria, for example, some money changers care what serial number and year each bill has. They offer less money for old bills, even if they are in mint condition.
Therefore, when you travel to Africa, especially West Africa, carry the cleanest, newest and most pristine dollar bills you can find. Meanwhile, leave your credit cards at home. Few Guineans know what a credit card was. Only the fanciest hotel may accept it.
Guinea's realities
Guinea is poor, but not destitute. The stereotypical image of a starving African is almost impossible to find in Guinea. On the other hand, most people struggle. I filmed a local Guinean police chief saying, “Help us advance. Our salaries don’t cover our needs.”
Standing next to him, the soldier Fufa Kobinga, tried to stay upbeat. He said, “Things are changing, small, small. Democracy is entering Guinea now ever since we got a new president in 2010. Things aren’t like they were before. But we are still lacking products. I asked you for a medicine for my stomach ache because it’s hard to find here. If the President of the United States has aid for Guinea, he ought to send it.”
