It is probably time to describe some of what we've been experiencing as we travel from town to town here in Senegal, trying to experience some of the culture and to soak in some of what makes Senegal such an inclusive and tolerant place.
We left on Friday, June 3rd for Toubacouta and what is called the Saloum Delta....I've previously describing the aborted ferry attempt on our way to Sokone for lunch. This was to take place in the home of WARC director Ousmane Senn. As we proceeded to take the "long" way to Sokone, about 6 hours in, we encounter the Senegalese version of road work. First there is a crime tape ribbon stretched across the road. This indicates we are to leave the blacktop---which has been stellar up until now---the speed bumps in EVERY town are excessive and actually amount to what is likely a tax in the form of suspension repair. Our bus is already a little bouncy in the back end and our driver who is simply awesome is beginning to temper his slowing down for them. From time to time people in the back go airborne. Our off the blacktop detour basically has us following the road, but from a seemingly random dirt track through village after village. There is deep sand in places---I after a childhood traversing the mud of Catron County New Mexico in a Volkswagen van(My Dad and I once dug for a whole day to get unstuck)---have a deep aversion to getting stuck. Our driver does not succumb to the sand ever---there is not even a moment of trepidation on his part. The route is rarely obviously marked and he never seems to miss a turn. We see the usual African rural town sights outside our window. Scores of horse or donkey drawn carts. Herds of goats and cows. A camel at one point. A troop of monkeys runs across the road. Children scream, smile, and wave all the time. It seems as if every woman in Senegal has a mango stand. There are furniture makers fashioning huge armoires and beautiful headboards---hand carved---from a variety of hardwoods. Mechanics cobble together vehicles using anvils, welding torches, and hacksaws. Every young man under 30 seems to have a 200 cc motorbike---I think of Indonesian origin----they are everywhere. The ironworkers do amazing things, all manner of doors, gates, window coverings etc.---the designs are just wonderful. Almost every house has a walled compound in the towns---with an intricate gate of metal. We go through town after town deep into the afternoon---most of it on this weaving dirt alternative track. From time to time we can see our road----sometimes just the gravel base, sometimes with brand new blacktop. what is unique is that every 20 yards or so, someone has laid down a line of rocks across it. Apparently without this drivers will cheat and use the road. Someone says that they are in full throttle because the rainy season is almost here. I cannot imagine that what we are on now will be traversable when it is mud. Late in the day we get to Professor Senn's home, are ushered into the compound, served cold drinks and cashews, and then a feast. Everyone takes off their shoes(I have this habit now having lived in Russia) and sits on mats. The house has what seems like a half dozen bathrooms. The women who cook are real characters. Ousmane's family is exceptionally warm and generous. after a couple of hours we leave for Toubacouta and the most beautiful of settings on the delta. We get little bungalows that have some plumbing challenges---but there is a pool, good food, and a bar with a charming, crabby little bartender. The beer is cold. The view is sublime. We stay here for 3 nights.
We left on Friday, June 3rd for Toubacouta and what is called the Saloum Delta....I've previously describing the aborted ferry attempt on our way to Sokone for lunch. This was to take place in the home of WARC director Ousmane Senn. As we proceeded to take the "long" way to Sokone, about 6 hours in, we encounter the Senegalese version of road work. First there is a crime tape ribbon stretched across the road. This indicates we are to leave the blacktop---which has been stellar up until now---the speed bumps in EVERY town are excessive and actually amount to what is likely a tax in the form of suspension repair. Our bus is already a little bouncy in the back end and our driver who is simply awesome is beginning to temper his slowing down for them. From time to time people in the back go airborne. Our off the blacktop detour basically has us following the road, but from a seemingly random dirt track through village after village. There is deep sand in places---I after a childhood traversing the mud of Catron County New Mexico in a Volkswagen van(My Dad and I once dug for a whole day to get unstuck)---have a deep aversion to getting stuck. Our driver does not succumb to the sand ever---there is not even a moment of trepidation on his part. The route is rarely obviously marked and he never seems to miss a turn. We see the usual African rural town sights outside our window. Scores of horse or donkey drawn carts. Herds of goats and cows. A camel at one point. A troop of monkeys runs across the road. Children scream, smile, and wave all the time. It seems as if every woman in Senegal has a mango stand. There are furniture makers fashioning huge armoires and beautiful headboards---hand carved---from a variety of hardwoods. Mechanics cobble together vehicles using anvils, welding torches, and hacksaws. Every young man under 30 seems to have a 200 cc motorbike---I think of Indonesian origin----they are everywhere. The ironworkers do amazing things, all manner of doors, gates, window coverings etc.---the designs are just wonderful. Almost every house has a walled compound in the towns---with an intricate gate of metal. We go through town after town deep into the afternoon---most of it on this weaving dirt alternative track. From time to time we can see our road----sometimes just the gravel base, sometimes with brand new blacktop. what is unique is that every 20 yards or so, someone has laid down a line of rocks across it. Apparently without this drivers will cheat and use the road. Someone says that they are in full throttle because the rainy season is almost here. I cannot imagine that what we are on now will be traversable when it is mud. Late in the day we get to Professor Senn's home, are ushered into the compound, served cold drinks and cashews, and then a feast. Everyone takes off their shoes(I have this habit now having lived in Russia) and sits on mats. The house has what seems like a half dozen bathrooms. The women who cook are real characters. Ousmane's family is exceptionally warm and generous. after a couple of hours we leave for Toubacouta and the most beautiful of settings on the delta. We get little bungalows that have some plumbing challenges---but there is a pool, good food, and a bar with a charming, crabby little bartender. The beer is cold. The view is sublime. We stay here for 3 nights.
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