The Casamance is noted as the most beautiful region of Senegal however if one decides to venture there the most prudent will tell you: “oh, noo! It’s much too dangerous.” Secluded from the rest of Senegal as it’s snuggled between the Gambia and Guinea Bissau, with its diverse climates, luscious fruit and natural resources, the Casamance flounders between struggles for independence and submissive national peace. The locals will affirm that while random uprisings exist it’s overall very calm and well worth the risk.
The beaches were beautiful (if you read in French, check out “CapSkirring” blog), the people were amazingly hospitable, the fruit overly abundant (I think we ate our weight in mangoes and its not even peak season), the weather was hot but not unbearable. We did not pre-program this trip but instead decided to go with only our guidebooks and the wind. It was a great decision! We discovered great places but most remarkable were the people we encountered.
Just arrived to the village of Oussouye (uu-sue-e) we were walking the streets looking for a place to stay when we stumbled upon Santa Claus’ hideout! Practically in the middle of the
street, like he was awaiting our arrival (after all, he does know all the bad/good lil’ boys and girls), was this elderly, very round man with white hair, a white beard and sparkling eyes shielded by tiny gold rimmed glasses. He nabbed us with his smile and led us to an auberge (hostel). Claude is his ‘hideout’ name and he claims to be a Frenchman who owned three restaurants in France, two of which he only employed handicap persons, before things fell apart with his wife and he moved to Senegal. Now embraced as an intimate member of the Diolla community (local ethnic group), he knows all of the secrets.1) The first afternoon he led us to a neighboring village to the private home of the women who runs the women’s pottery commune. She gave us a private demonstration and was extremely hospitable.
2) Our second day there (bike ride day!), he led us into the middle of the forest where he had some of his local friends prepare a local feast. One of them took a pirogue (sm) boat to cut the oyster encrusted mangrove roots while the other prepared the fire. In the meantime, we sat on a log with a mat of palm leaves in front of us. I used to think that oysters look like tiny fetus in a shell—I couldn’t eat them. However, being that they went to all this effort, I thought I should at least try one. So, with knife in hand, I cautiously pried open one of the warm shells, still attached to the mangrove root. The juice dribbled down my arm as I flicked the tiny muscle into my mouth…well, about 25 delicious pieces later I could only groan with delight! Love ‘em- who knew?!
3) When you think things can’t get any better, that night SC/Claude agreed to make us dinner! Fresh salads of carrots and cucumbers covered in Greek style yoghurt w/ mint etc (and unless you live on fried fish and fried rice w/ no fresh veggies for 4 months you’ll never fully understand this as a delicacy). Salads were followed by fresh fish kabobs and chocolate crepes to top it off…oh, Santa Claus….:)~ (insert more groans of delight)(photo: Animist King, Jonathan, Lies and new Scottish friend)
We also met a Scottish speech therapist who is traveling W. Africa on a bike. She doesn’t speak French, is a vegetarian and travels alone. Never say never!
We also met the Animist King. He reigns from Oussouye and covers about 18 villages to the border of Guinea Bissau. He is the only one to wear an all red boubou and he let us ask him any question we liked for about 45 minutes. I’m not sure how to explain this situation. To prepare yourself to see a real-life “King”…Animism …any question…very interesting.
For more than half the trip we were accompanied by John, random English ‘explorer.’ After working for about a year as a lawyer in England he decided that wasn’t the life for him so he has since: run a marathon in Laos, in flip-flops; was conveniently close to Indonesia after the Tsunami of 2004 so dedicated 5-6 months getting local communities back on their feet; rode clandestinely into Pakistan in a trunk of a car; crossed the Mauritanian desert, on foot, alone; the list goes on... We shared many great stories and belly-aching nights of laughter. (John in a fish sorting truck)
So while the landscape and cultural discoveries were unforgettable it was really the people that made the trip. When all together, we comprised of a: Swede, Belge, Canadian, New-Zelander, Englishman, Scottswoman and 3 Americans. Love it! For Jonathan (Swede), Lies (Belge) and I, it was our 4th trip together in Senegal and it was a truly special one at that. Jonathan left Senegal the same day we returned to Dakar. Lies leaves in 10 days. I still have two months, for which I’m very excited.
The more I have traveled outside of Dakar the more I have picked out things I don’t appreciate about it. So, with my French really rolling now I’m going to completely throw myself into life here. While I might not end up loving the city itself, as this trip has reaffirmed, it’s all about the people. I look forward to spending more time with my host family, getting in some quality time at local NGOs, establishing deeper local roots and overall, falling in love with local culture!
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