Two weekends ago, I traveled to Ziguinchor, the capital of the Casamance region of Senegal. This was originally the destination for my fall break trip at the beginning of October. CIEE made us nix those plans when we learned that travel on roads surrounding Ziguinchor was “strongly discouraged” by the State Department. Apparently villages in the area had been pillaged and there were a lot of car hijackings. Unfortunately we had already bought our non-refundable ferry tickets to sail to Ziguinchor, so we decided to change the date on the tickets so we wouldn’t lose the $60 they cost us. We decided to go to Ziguinchor the weekend after Tabaski, despite the fact that we would be spending about 30 hours onboard a ship and only about 27 hours actually in Ziguinchor. CIEE agreed to let us go on the condition that we stay in Ziguinchor and not travel to other areas of the Casamance.
We got to the harbor around four in the afternoon, went through more security checks than an international flight, and climbed aboard the ship. The “Whirlwind Tour of Ziguinchor” had begun.
To put this into a geographic perspective, the Casamance is the most southern region of Senegal, sharing a border with the country Guinea-Bissau. The ferry leaves the peninsula of Dakar, goes south in the Atlantic along the coast of Senegal, and then West into a river through the Casamance until arriving in Ziguinchor. Each direction on the ferry takes about 15 hours, which kind of amazes me, because it really is not that far in terms of mileage. Even so, it was a pretty nice boat ride going there. I spent most of my time out on the deck, returning to my seat just to attempt to sleep for a few hours. I found the number of tourists/Europeans on the boat pretty crazy, as I thought the ferry was primarily a form of transportation or commuting for Senegalese people.
As the boat sailed up to the harbor (around nine in the morning), I could already see the insane differences between Ziguinchor and Dakar. Everything was so much greener and more tropical, not to mention more relaxed and pleasant. Ziguinchor was basically what I envisioned Senegal to be before arriving. While we walked through the city looking for our hotel, I loved every aspect of the town, from the small shops and buildings to the giant palm trees chaotically grouped all over. We finally made it to the hotel, which was equally lovely.
The Senegal guidebook informed us that a popular tourist spot was a crocodile farm nearby. Supposedly this place not only had crocodiles, but all sorts of exotic plants and fruits. We got into some taxis headed towards the crocodile farm. When the taxis passed a police checkpoint, we realized that we were doing exactly what we were told not to do: leave Ziguinchor. Thankfully it was only a few kilometers down the road, but when we pulled up to the crocodile farm it looked like anything but a hopping tourist attraction. The sign was run down, we got in at a very discounted rate, and if it weren’t for the woman at the gate, there would not have been any people around. Onward we trekked into the crocodile farm, down a dirt path leading into the jungle. Surrounded by freakishly large termite hills, giant bamboo stalks, and overgrown vegetation, it was a bona fide jungle. When the path kept forking and we still hadn’t seen any crocodiles, we started to wonder if we were actually in a type of a labyrinth/Jurassic park designed to trap stupid tourists and if some sort of beast would soon be released to hunt us down. After a bit more walking, we finally saw some crocodiles… in zoo-like cages, looking very bored and sad. There were some cool looking plants and fruits, but I couldn’t even begin to identify what they actually were. A few people of the group insisted that they try crocodile meat, so we stopped at the restaurant once we found our way back to the restaurant. The consensus was that the crocodile meat was quite delicious, although I was content eating pineapple and ice cream.
After getting back into the downtown area of Ziguinchor, we decided to wander the streets for a little while and do some exploring. We found a man (he actually found us) who is a Senegalese musician who lived in Seattle for the past ten years. We also found the major market, where machete options were abundant and no fruit was to be found. The number of churches in Ziguinchor surprised me, because in Dakar I see so many mosques.
The next day we ate some local cuisine for breakfast/lunch. We went to a veritable hole in the wall restaurant… you walked through the door to see one big table surrounded by benches, with the stove and man preparing the food sitting at one side of the table. We sat down and ordered egg sandwiches and café au laits. I could not have even imagined a more appetizing breakfast at that point in time, the sandwich and coffee just held so much promise. We walked out of the restaurant quite pleased that we each only spent about $1.50 for a giant sandwich and coffee. We walked back through the city to the harbor, ready to get back on the same boat we had just gotten off about 28 hours previous. As my bag made the metal detector beep violently, I gave a concerned look to the guard, whom I expected to search my bag. Instead, he laughed loudly, said, “Bon voyage!” and waved me on my way. Apparently 20-year-old American girls do not pose a threat to Senegalese ships.
That evening on board the ship I witnessed one of the most breathtaking sunsets I have ever seen. The sun turned a shade of hot pink that the water brilliantly reflected. I just couldn’t get over how happy I felt, being in such great company witnessing such a beautiful event. I made several declarations about how much I loved ships and how I wished I could take them more often. I stopped short when my stomach began to churn… that egg sandwich was starting to bite me back. When I went to my seat to try to sleep, all I could feel was the rocking of the ship, making my stomach angrier and angrier. I kept telling myself that I was not going to get sick, and I continued to tell myself that for the next several hours until the ferry arrived in Dakar.
I managed to make it back to Soso’s house before upchucking all my stomach’s contents and, surprise surprise, getting a horrible case of diarrhea. I managed to get myself to school only to turn around and go back home after one class. Soso kept laughing, saying, “Haha the boat made you sick!” I did not have the patience or the energy to explain that I was not seasick, but that the egg sandwich ripped apart my entire digestive system. When stomach cramps and diarrhea did not relent by Wednesday, I went to the pharmacy to explain my plight. The pharmacist said, “Well, you should really see a doctor, but here take these.” I laughed to myself as I read, in big bold letters, “Prescription Only,” on each of the boxes.
Thankfully I regained some of my health in time to celebrate Thanksgiving Senegalese-style on Thursday. The student government on campus sponsored this event for all students of Suffolk University-Dakar. It was at the Club Atlantique, which is kind of like a fancy sports/dining/pool club for wealthy people and expatriates in Dakar. I have never had a Thanksgiving dinner poolside, next to a fully stocked bar, with hip-hop music blasting and scantily clad girls dancing and running around. A few of us wondered if we should let them know for future reference that Thanksgiving is supposed to be a wholesome family meal. One of my friends considered asking the DJ to put on some Christmas music. At this point in time, I have taken a “When in Rome” approach to living in Senegal; if a Senegalese Thanksgiving includes raunchy hip-hop music, then it looks like that is how I’m going to celebrate.
This past Friday we left on our final overnight program trip. All of CIEE went to Saint-Louis, city in the very north of Senegal, practically bordering on Mauritania. This city was the capital of Senegal during French colonial rule and shortly after Senegal’s independence. Before arriving in Saint-Louis, we spent a night in the desert. This was an extremely bizarre desert, consisting of grouping giant sand dunes that seemed to be placed in the middle of an area with a lot of vegetation. I never knew how much fun sand dunes could be… I had been to beach sand dunes before, but never desert sand dunes. The sand’s texture was so soft, it was almost powdery. We also got to ride camels! I enjoyed my camel ride, although I could never imagine crossing the Sahara on one. The night sky from the desert was like nothing I have ever seen before. A group of us left our camp and climbed up on one of the high sand dunes to look at the stars. We stayed there, staring at the sky, for quite a while without saying a word.
I awoke in my tent Saturday morning to an unfamiliar feeling: I was cold. Cold! For the first time in so long! We had to get up before the sunrise since we had a lot on the day’s itinerary. We had the option of walking or taking trucks back to the area where we would catch the buses. Feeling ambitious (and rather out of shape from lack of exercise), I decided to make the one-hour trek back. Nothing compares to watching a sunrise while walking through a West African desert. I wish I could do that every morning.
After taking a pirogue tour through a bird reserve, we arrived in downtown Saint-Louis. Every aspect of the city emanated Frenchness. All of the buildings were of a 19th century French colonial style. Most of the roads had French names and the city was structured around a large rectangular garden, something I had never before seen in Senegal. In addition to the architecture and layout of the city, there were tons of toubabs around. I didn’t see a giant market like in Dakar or other Senegalese cities, but I did see a ton of touristy shops selling all things “African”. I feel like I should act like I was above shopping at these stores, but I must admit it was very handy to have a bunch of souvenirs in one place; it made buying gifts a whole lot easier. I watched some French tourists pay a ton of money for some purses, and then suavely walked in and refused to pay more than a quarter of what they paid for the same stuff. By this point I know the art of negotiating prices with vendors quite well – when you don’t get the price you want, just walk away, and the vendor will chase you down the street and concede. I also hated to admit that I found the city aesthetically pleasing… I should have bashed the architecture and gardens because they are concrete evidence of European imperialism and colonization, but I honestly was enamored by everything. We had a guest professor/lecturer come to give us a tour and history of the city. I ate two of the best meals I’ve had in Senegal at our hotel: a veggie omelette/salad and a quiche. I also took a hot shower for the first time in three months… I forgot how wonderful hot showers are.
In a week’s time I got to see the most southern and most northern points of Senegal. Putting Ziguinchor and Saint-Louis side by side, I would never have guessed that they belonged to the same country, let alone the same region of Africa. Both cities were beautiful in very different ways, and I can say that I would choose either city over Dakar.
In other news, Senegal and Mauritania made Al Qaeda angry by arresting some of its members that were in the two countries. I do not know the entire story so I may have part of that wrong, but there have been fighter jets flying around Dakar for the past few weeks. I have heard that they belong to the Senegalese military and are there for defense purposes only. I hardly even notice them anymore, but they are rather noisy and there is something a bit ominous about three fighter planes jetting across the sky every half an hour.
I will be back in the States in exactly three weeks! Unfortunately I have a lot of work to get done before then.
Ciao ciao!
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