A new day, a new country. Senegal completely wraps around Gambia and seems a little more prosperous, at least in Dakar. Dakar is a very large city with new tall buildings- one of the largest in Africa. We opted, however, for a ferry to Ile de Goree. This is a 38 acre island, 2 miles off the coast of Dakar. We were able to pay with dollars as long as we rounded up to $35 - from $32- no singles. Dollars are just not popular anymore. You know things are bad when even the poorest Africans refuse them. Anyway a nice scam for the ticket guy. Several of us from the ship went over. The island itself is known as the holding area for the slaves prior to being shipped to the New World. There is a museum depicting this and tours of the tiny cells in which they imprisoned and tortured these poor souls.
On the brighter side the island is an oasis of absolutely stunning beauty. Most of the buildings are restored and painted deep shades of red, ochre, yellows and greens. There are no vehicles of any kind. One thousand people live there. Although they tend to pester tourists, they are easier to dissuade than in The Gambia and Dakar itself. We wandered the quiet peaceful streets admiring the flowers and art work. The fort museum was interesting and afforded views over the rest of the island. Lots of goats and small cats live here. They just wander around like us.
The highlight for me was following the sound of an angelic choir coming from the Catholic church. Entering it at the back, we were in time for Communion- men on the left, ladies on the right. All were dressed in their finest batik clothes including headdresses. The littlest children sat in a group up front. Perfectly behaved. They were blessed after Communion by the priest. The choir, though, was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. Here are these people, living in a very predominately Muslim country, poor but so proud, really celebrating their faith. I need to see things like this periodically.
After the return on the ferry, we had 2 hours to get to the ship. After walking the streets constantly bombarded by hustlers- called bumsters here- Bert decided to return. I continued to walk on my own looking for an open internet place. It was a bit harrowing at times but I just tried to ignore the bumsters. Frequently a man would just walk alongside me at my shoulder saying nothing. There were few others on the streets because it was Sunday. Finally I found the ship. I tried to buy a few sodas but no one would accept dollars and I certainly did not have CFAs (their money). In the end I wandered into the medina (probably not smart) and literally 4 men helped me do the sale. French and Woloof are the languages here -neither one I am fluent in or even have a few words. I was relieved to return to the mothership.
Africa was interesting but I met no one during the past few days who felt a burning desire to return. It wasn't the poverty to me, rather the difference of boundary limits that these folks have. They stand so close and keep touching in a familiar way even though they do not know us. I am not used to that and it felt threatening. As I said interesting but no pangs at leaving and no plans to return.
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