 |
| baskets for sale in Fatiouth |
 |
| Banjul International Airport |
 |
| la petite côte of Senegal |
Last weekend I visited Senegal - it's a mere 35-minute puddle jump from Banjul to Dakar. The fun begins in the outdoor departure “lounge” in Banjul airport – well, a bunch of plastic chairs and tables with umbrellas is all you need to enjoy your wait for the evening flights. Far superior to Dakar. Though our volunteers seem to build up Dakar as 'worst airport in the world,' I didn't find it so bad – definitely have had worse experiences (they probably just don't like that Banjul-Dakar flights are always timed so you have to wait overnight for international flights in the wee hours). Exiting into the frenzy of taxi drivers hounding me for business, I missed the hotel guy with the sign with my name on it. Still managed to weave through the parking lots and easily found the hotel's van and borrowed some guy's phone to call the driver (my french still seems to work). I stayed in the NW neighborhood of Les Almadies on the Cap Vert peninsula – the westernmost tip of Africa – a fancier part of town, but close to the Peace Corps office where I had a Monday meeting (I splurged).
 |
| shell street in Fatiouth |
On Saturday I went down the coast (“la petite côte”) to the towns of Mbour, Joal & Fatiouth. We visited volunteer sites in the region and spent the afternoon in the village of Fatiouth, an island that is basically a large mound of oyster and clam shells. There are no cars allowed on the island – only donkey carts join you on the long footbridge, then the streets (alleyways, basically) are all paved in shells. Houses are constructed of a shell and cement mixture, with the usual high sand content. Crossing another bridge brings you to a muslim-christian cemetery, which they claim is the only one in the world. Looking across the water toward the mangrove wetlands, Fatiouth villagers had stored their millet supply as a sort of community bank. Though not used anymore (only the huts remain), villagers could boat over to the island and take out a 'loan' whenever they needed it.
 |
| old huts used to store village's millet - a 'food bank' |
 |
| combined Muslim-Christian cemetery |
My friend Pape picked me up at the ferry port in Dakar and took me out to meet his new baby, Fatou. Pape does my same job at the Senegal Peace Corps post and had trained with me for five weeks in DC, where I also met his wife. It was a treat to be introduced to their baby as 'Auntie Heather' – so glad my auntie privileges are following me worldwide!
Monday was all work and an evening flight back to Banjul. I have to admit, it was great to come 'home' to the friendly welcome of the airport personnel and relaxed pace of The Gambia. Maybe taking a small plane had something to do with it – arriving with a dozen locals rather than on a huge jet from Europe (my first arrival). Dakar is huge and though the vibe is fun, it's a ton of traffic, a ton of trash and I was happy to be in my mid-size town where I can walk to work and see my volunteers every day (not always the case with posts in mega cities where the office is off the usual volunteer path). I think I can make myself at home just about anywhere, but I love the pride that comes with returning to a place you prefer and have made your own.
 |
| tortoise at orphanage near Mbour |
 |
happiness is returning home
to The Gambia! |
Sunday I took the Dakar ferry to the Île de Gorée, Senegal's remaining symbol of the Atlantic slave trade. It's a beautiful and calm place, but heavy with history. Again there are no cars, just narrow alleyways with old colonial buildings draped in flowers (volcanic rock rather than shells is part of the construction here). La Maison des Esclaves was choking as we walked through holding cell after cell – though the numbers of slaves who passed through this particular trading station is usually exaggerated, it doesn't change the true impact of the sight which is a painful symbol of many such places. We spent the afternoon roaming the streets, hiking up to the fort, and exploring passageways. We weren't able to squeeze on the 2:30 ferry, so waited until 4:30, pleasantly forced to wait on the beach with dozens of children playing in the water. It was a long weekend for Senegalese, so there were plenty of locals visiting the island. 
No comments:
Post a Comment