Crocodiles!

Wednesday morning (I'm at the computer now) the bitik owner around the corner asked me for a mango. This is related to crocodiles, I promise. I've bought bread or soap or eggs from this bitik nearly every day I've been in Kombo, so when I didn't show up for a few days (due to being in training village with the trainees) he wondered where I'd been. When I told him, he wondered where his something-from-Yuna was.

"But..."
"But what?"
"Yuna doesn't have...anything."
"Yuna has mangoes."
"You want a mango?"

Normally I wouldn't question the desire to eat a mango, but the Kombos are literally overflowing with mangoes. They collect in smelly heaps on the ground because even the children have had enough.

"Yes," he answered.
"I ate all the mangoes."
"You ate all the mangoes?"
"Yes."

But the next morning he asks where his mango is, so I tell him I'll look for one.

I decide to actually look for one. Sadly, the only mangoes I find in the yard are either unripe or rotting. I decide to keep an eye out for mangoes as I continue with that day's quest: The Katchikally Crocodile Pool. It's somewhere in Bakau; the guidebooks all give "ask someone for directions" as their directions. The problem is that all the "someones" along the road in Bakau are people I like to avoid. They are:

1. souvenir-peddlers desperate for a customer 
2. taxi drivers desperate for a passenger
3. Men in Sunglasses desperate for a wife

I decide to get my souvenir shopping out of the way first. I want to finish shopping before Ramadan, figuring hungry shopkeepers will be less pleasant to bargain with. Crocodiles, a non-Ramadan-sensitive event, can always wait until another day.

After shopping, I remain unsure about seeing the crocodiles. Or rather, unsure about who to approach for directions. I decide to walk slowly home and see what happens.

What happens is a mango stand. I decide I might as well spend five dalasis and buy the bitik owner a mango. Then, realizing mango sellers belong to a category of people I like, I ask, "Is the crocodile pool far from here?" "No, not at all!" answers the man next to Mango Lady (whose name is Ousman Cee, but I'll just call him Cee). "I'll take you there," he adds.

I could have made up some lie about saving the crocodiles for a sunny day, but I decide I can trust Cee to not ruin my adventure because:

1. he's not wearing sunglasses
2. I approached him
3. while I was buying the mangoes he said, "When you go back to America, take this kid with you. He is ugly."

I follow Cee along muddy roads. I try to pay attention to the route, but we make so many turns I quickly forget. I decide to assume he's going to want money and figure it'll be worth it because I really could never have gotten here on my own. He discovers I speak Pulaar, which makes the conversation more enjoyable but the journey longer (we need to stop several times so he can show off the Fula toubab he found).

At the entrance there is a fifty dalasis admission fee, which I assume means I'll enter alone. But Cee gets waved through and I figure...whatever. He leads me to the museum, switches to English, and pretends he's a tour guide. The museum contains an assortment of unrelated objects (konkorans, instruments, farming implements). Actually, it's possible the objects were related, but I'm whisked around too quickly to read the explanatory placards.

Hey! I recognize this guy!

Don't recognize him.

This is the konkoran standing, but when he is "displaying" he bends down so that the pole sticking out in back (not pictured) touches the ground and then he does some sort of spinning thing. At least, that's according to Cee and a black-and-white photograph on the wall.

Probably the coolest-looking konkoran ever. 

We leave the museum and continue along a jungle-like path to the pool.

Facts I was told about this tree:

1. It is over 200 years old.
2. People will walk between it (like I did, when I took the picture) and pray so that their prayers will be sent up, up.
3. It is called an elephant tree.
4. It is also a cotton tree.

Cee tells me, women with fertility problems can come and ask for water from the pool to be brought to them and they'll bathe with it. Or even just people who want good luck.

"How many crocodiles are there?" I want to know.

Cee directs me to the crocodile caretaker, whose name I never learned. I nearly trip over a crocodile on my way over.

"How many crocodiles are there?"
"Over one hundred."

There is silence. We stare at the half-dozen crocodiles before us. Silence. I grow bored and ask more questions.

• Where are all the crocodiles? Most of them are still small because they hatch from eggs. Crocodiles can lay thirty eggs at one time. Also not many of the crocodiles are out now because of the rain.  Earlier in the morning they were out, because they are cold-blooded and like to sunbathe.
• Where are the baby crocodiles? In the nests dug into the ground at the edge of the pool.
• How deep is the pool? Over five meters deep.
• What is that growing in the pool? Water lilies.
• What do you feed the crocodiles? Fish.
• How many times do you feed them?  Once a day. But the time of day depends on when the fish arrive. The fishermen need to feed the people first, then the crocodiles. Sometimes the crocodiles do not eat for two or three days if there is not enough fish. Then they are hungry.
• What happens if they are hungry? They will sometimes eat their own children. It is unnatural. 
• Has anyone ever gone swimming with the crocodiles? Yes, if you are here a long time you will get to recognize the crocodiles. This one is bigger, this one is darker...
• Why are the crocodiles scratching? The water is filled with leeches.
• Do any of the crocodiles have names? Only one, Charlie, because he is the biggest. But I can name that one [pointing to a nearby crocodile] after you.

Cee leads me back to the main road and I give him some money because he never asked for any.

Walking home I decide what I want most at this moment is to eat a mango. So I eat the mango.