My flight landed at 3AM and a man named Kebba Nyassi, a cab driver, was supposed to meet me at the airport exit. He was my ride. Stepping off the plane, all the passengers were immediately checked for fever, a likely Ebola-related precaution. Lining up at the passport check, I was able to buy my visa, find Kebba and be on my way.
On the roads to Kerr Serigne, a small city near Banjul, the streets, of the majority Muslim country, were buzzing with people, lively after a day of Ramadan fasting and high temperatures.
