Going Local in Senegal - Episode é

Hello all,

Past the traffic, dust, noise and factories we went into the relative calm of our well known Dakar suburb. The guys at the garage were pleased to see us back.... This time showers were not on offer but I was allowed to sit in the air-conditioned office. The same guy had a look at it, diagnosed the problem and fixed it relatively quickly which wzs extremely lucky for us asthe garage was closed the next day for the end of Ramadam (sorry put that in the wrong place in my last email). On our last visit, Marc and I had gone for a walk around sunset and found a place on the cliffs by the lighthouse, sandwiched between 2 army bases but unseen by either where we could camp, having decided that if we had to go to Dakar again, we might as well take in some jazz.

We watched the sunset over the cliffs with a bottle of red wine, and then I showered out of cup (refuse to go out in a city looking like a bush pig) and we both put on our best clothes. Ha! Now that is a joke. Not sure what the time was we went in search of our dinner lady but she was closing up and had finished her food. However she insisted she would find us something, a sandwich, and told us to sit down. Ten minutes later she placed several plates on the table piled high with liver and onion, some salad, chili and bread. A sandiwhich! This was beyond all expectation and to top it all she refused to let us pay as she was closed! We sat for a while as she organised her neices to pack up around us. Marc took a photo of the lady and I, she gave me a photo of herself too and asked us to come and have lunch with her tomorrow to celebrate Ede but we didn't think we'd still be in Dakar.

The jazz bar was set outside with clusters of tables and chairs under a leafy roof. A chilled out place, the band were even more laid back and played a mixture of African music and jazz. Every now and then other musicians from the audience would have a go on the drums/guitar etc. All black group except for one white lady who was in here 50's and played electric guitar in her pajamas. Quite good actually!

The next day we visited Rose Lake so called because the salt content gives it a pink hue at midday. I went for a walk around and then crossed the sand dunes to swim in the sea, Marc went for a jog. We both liked the area so much we decided to camp the night on the edge of the dunes by the ocean. A local village was not so far away and in the morning we were visited by some of the inhabitants who invited us to celebrate Ede (end of ramadam) with them.

So off we set to their compound which consisted of 3 small bed huts, a kitchen hut, and a shady area in the middle. There were about 30 family members around although it totals something like 80 and the chif male çwith his 4 wives) was disppointed more were not there. We ate duck and rice with them out of big communal bowels. The rice is soaked in palm oil and you have to squeeze it with your hand to remove some of the oil and make it into a ball to eat. We got rice everywhere! Dinner was a kind of maize in a sweetend peanut milk sauce - this time they gave us spoons. After the sun went down and the head of family called prayer for the end of the day; we went to the local town in search of malaria medicine and came across a square of tribal dancing and drumming. Men and ladies kicking their legs above their heads in tight bright clothes and shaking their arse in a manner unexpected for the end of a Muslim religious ceremony. Good fun though!

We breakfasted with them in the morning and it took a good couple of hours to get away as everyone walks you to the car and you have to go via the chief and the second chief who all want to say prayers, but an interesting look into village life. When the chiefs talking to Marc got too boring I'd go and play with the kids. Not considered rude to sneak away as women aren't intelligent.... Within the family setting married couples were just like anywhere else but would only show touching affection when it became darker. Most visitors slept on the big mat all on top of each other anyway. The women in this village also appeared to be quite equal and some were very outspoken which is always great to see. The chiefs wife joked that Marc should become her second husband.

Now determined to get to Gambia, we drove most of the day and camped in some farmland near the boarder. Another beautiful setting as the sunset turned the grass golden green whilst ladies carried water home on their heads and boys drove cattle past. We celebrated another magnificent spot with REAL cheese brie on fresh bread as an aperitif (usually its laughing cow.... every day, la vachi qui rit.... on our sandwiches) and some more red wine.

Leaving Senegal was not too bad, one of the officials wanted me to be his wife and another tentatively tried for a bribe but didn't push it. The Gambian side involved a lenghty interrogation about everything in immigrations office but no bribes asked and necessary stamps all round. Too easy we thought.

Yeah right... too easy.

Peace and love,
Kx