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Published: June 23rd 2007
Doing the Congo
A Congolese dancer struts his stuff at Baby's birthday do in Toubab Dialao
Tom Griffith Senegalese bus journeys are stressful enough, without a mad, drunk, Sierra Leonean musician shouting abuse at you, as you struggle to squeeze into a tiny seat, clutching your oversized backpack. We had somehow picked up this mad guy, who was drinking beer for breakfast, at our hotel, and when he saw my guitar he decided he was going to teach me how to play
No Woman No Cry 'the way Bob played it', and follow us to wherever we were going that day, even though our destination happened to be 50 kilometres down the coast away from where he was staying. Luckily for us, he was on crutches, so we managed to shake him off on the way from the hotel, but hecaught up with us at the bus stop, and reaffirmed his intention to come with us. As we struggled onto the overcrowded bus, he decided he was no longer our friend, and he started shouting and swearing at us, demanding that we hurry up. A confrontation ensued, and the result was that he spent the next hour shouting at us, and anyone in earshot, about how we showed no respect, and should be forced to stand for the
Baobabs and graves
Two baobab trees tower over the cemetery at Joal Fadiout whole journey, so we could learn to 'travel like Africans'. He then said that we Americans (?) tried to make ourselves big, while Africans made themselves small. We thought his madness was aimed solely at us, until he got into three other noisy fights with the surrounding Senegalese passengers. By the time we reached M'bour, he was cursing the entire bus, and he scrambled away, thankfully dumping his plan to accompany us for the day.
I guess his outbursts are probably rooted in godknows how much sadness and tragedy. In this part of the world, you meet many refugees from war, brutality and poverty, many of them from Sierra Leone,and they all display their scars in different forms - not always physical. A massive contrast to our raving friend was the noble and wonderful Baby, the manager of our beachfront hotel at Toubab Dialao, on the Senegal coast, and herself a victim of the terrible civil war in Sierra Leone. We arrived at her cruisy little establishment on a Saturday night, just as she was preparing the place for her birthday party. She had the only available room left in the village, and she apologised in advance for the
Tea?
Famara, a Toubacouta youth, poses with his girlie whilst pouring us a cup of foamy Senegalese tea noise and revelry that was to folllow. To placate us, she invited us to the fiesta, and even gave us free dinner and beers. The night couldn't have been more perfect - a wild performance by some Congolese drummers, dancing, drinking, reggae beats, and meeting some of the friendliest West Africans you could hope for.
Baby, we later discovered, had fled Sierra Leone during the civil war. During the chaos, she was seperated from her 2-year old daughter, who remained behind in the care of Baby's sister. The sister was tragically killed in the war, and Baby lost touch with her young child. She kept up the search during her years in Senegal, and finally, two years ago, mother and daughter were reunited - 13 years after being torn apart. So much sadness, so much tragedy, yet to meet Baby, you wouldn't have guessed how awful her story was. Like many Africans, she has learned to compartmentalise such horror and get on with life.
We spent a wonderful two days in Toubab, after flying back to Dakar from Cape Verde. We then moved on to the intriguing village of Joal Fadiout, further south along the Petite Cote -
Chez Baby
The cool little beachfront hotel run by Baby, in Toubab Dialao a strip of beaches and fishing villages running for about 150 kilometres down from Dakar to Gambia. Fadiout is a relaxed little village built entirely on an island made from shells, and the things are everywhere - in the bricks, on the paths, lining the walls. Apart from the shells, there isn't much going for Fadiout - but it is home to one of Senegal's largest Christian communities, so we did see our first pigs yet on the African mainland.
Next stop was the wonderful settlement of Toubacouta, on the Sine Saloum delta, an area of mangroves and forest that bears more than a passing resemblance to the Top End of Australia. Here we stayed at the clean, friendly safari-style Keur Youssou, while I waged war with my new enemy - les mustiques, the malaria-carrying mosquitoes who are now a feature of our African journey. Yes, it is the wet season now, and the little bastards are after us, so it's reprellent, mozzie coils, malaria pills and mosquito nets all the way. I had been in the sun too long one day, and spent a good twenty minutes creeping around our room, looking for some to kill before they
Islam meets Christianity
The dual-religion cemetery that sits on an island made of shells, at Joal Fadiout killed me. So far, the kill count is three. Sorry to all you animal lovers, but it is us or them...
While in Touba, we stayed at our favourite place yet - an eco-friendly bush camp called Keur Bamboung, located on an island out in the mangroves. To get there, you had to take a pirogue to the island, and then a guy with a donkey-cart collects you and your luggage for the walk to the camp. The place is the first of its kind in Senegal, and was funded as an aid project. It is now almost entirely self-sufficient, and the profits from the camp go to the locals, who act as rangers in the surrounding marine park, making sure nobody breaks the hunting and fishing bans. The camp is built using traditional methods, and uses solar electricity and rain water, so it is pretty much a leftie eco-warrior's dream. It costs a bit more to stay there, but all the profits go to a good cause, and the setting alone is worth it - overlooking the mangroves and river, with savannah bushland all around. The highlight for me was going for an evening stroll amongst the baobabs,
Un arbre
Suze stands beneath a painted tree in...you guessed it, Toubacouta! and seeing my first three warthogs ever, charging off into the bushes nearby. Scary but awesome.
Touba was great, but we are ona pretty tight schedule again, so we had to keep moving. We took the worst bus I have ever been on in my life - actually a large van full of sweaty individuals, crammed in like sardines - along a potholed road to Tambacounda, a gross and forgettable town in Senagl's west. Don't do the journey or visit the town unless you are a masochist. We were doing the trip for a reason - to get to Mali - which was a successful mission, as we are now there...but that is one for the next blog.
An apology to finish - my camera has decided to react to the 40-plus heat here, and is currently not working - so less photos than normal. Hopefully I can rectify the problem for the next post.
Tom and Suze's Top Six of Senegal
1.Keur Bamboung ecolodge. A beautiful, community-run camp on a mangrove-lined island, in the Sine Saloum delta, where you can stay in rustic wooden huts, and view the local wildlife, whilst helping fund the conservation of
Keur Bamboung
View of the staff quarters and a large baobab at the campement the surrounding marine park.
2. The food. Yassa poulet, or chicken in a mustard-based sauce, is a real classic, and the national dish, tieboujienne, can be pretty tasty.
3. Saint Louis. A very laid-back and friendly introduction to Senegal, with good bars and music.
4. The music. Senegalese music is world-renowned, and everywhere you go in Senegal, you are accompanied by a thumping soundtrack of mbalax, the popular local style.
5. The bright, colourful clothes. After the chadors and robes of Arab Africa, the fabulous fabrics that the women of Senegal get around in are even more strikingly vibrant.
6. The beer. Flag and Gazelle are delicious little drops, even more so after being in dry Mauritania!
Tom and Suze's Bottom Three of Senegal
1. The bus trip from Kaolack to Tambacounda. It was supposed to be five hours, but it lasted almost ten. The windows didn't open. There were 23 of us stuffed into a rattling old van with tiny seats. The guy next to me looked like a genetic experiment gone wrong. The girl next to him had the worst BO ever. The bus sat in the station for two hours before
Our ecohut
Me standing in front of our cute little wooden hut at Keur Bamboung we moved. It was 40-plus degrees outside. We couldn't move our legs. The road was potholed. It was hell.
2. Dakar. The capital is an exciting, bustling place, with plenty of opportunities to party and live it up. You just have to get past the pollution, traffic jams, and robbers first.
3. Senegalese bus stations. Watch out for the touts, liars, bag-snatchers, and find a taxi, quick. Then you have to pay the 'tourist tax', or the 'baggage charge', as it is known here. The driver will ask for some ridiculous price to carry your bag on the roof, just because you are a 'toubab' (whitey). You can negotiate it down, but it will never be zero...
***
Africa Country Count: 5
Senegal Overland Kilometre Count: 1245km
Africa Overland Kilometre Count: 12,055km
Next Country: Mali
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FloresG
non-member comment
good blog
im already addicted to ur blog...will u be going to the CAR?