Destination Casamance

Despite the very normal heat that hovered in waves above the cracked asphalt and the typically bright equatorial sun whose scorching rays made no attempt to disguise their intrinsically cancerous properties, last Friday was not quite as average as the weather that preceded it. Last Friday marked the first day of a week of river adventures, post-war excitement and pain au chocolat in excessive quantities.

Ziguinchor's wide streets and colorful scenery were a welcome break from Dakar

Following our fourth week at school and our first full month in Senegal I already had arrived at fall break. Consequentially, I was faced with a really wonderful question: Where should I travel during my nine days of freedom?

The answer to that question lay in Senegal’s southernmost region: The Casamance. Renowned for the lush mangrove forests that stretch alongside the tranquil Casamance river, the flocks of exotic birds that migrate yearly from the four corners of the world and the endless expanses of white sand beaches that would make and postcard vendor drool, Senegal’s Casamance region is said to be the most beautiful region in the country.

Still, the beauty hasn’t come without the beast; throughout history, the Casamance has been characterized by years of civil warfare and rebellion, ranging from an impressive stand against French colonialism in the 1940s (with a particularly bold [albeit failed] revolt led by a female that you can read about here if you’re looking for some rainy day lit) to the past decade’s sometimes violent uprisings against the current government and the notable chaos that ensued. In 2004 the Casamance finally reached an agreement with the government and since then has been welcoming increased stability and peace, and despite the occasional sighting of a 10 year old carrying a machete in the street, the Casamance remains, hands down, the most charming and welcoming part of Senegal. *

Warren & Alex: Travel companions par excellence

All of that to say that the Casamance was without doubt the most logical destination for my fall break. Lucky for me, two other dauntless friends thought so as well – Warren, an environmental/international studies major at Northeastern, and Alex, an economics major from Georgetown. Therefore, Lonely Planet guide in one hand, passport in the other, backpack strapped securely to my back and a companion on either side, I embarked on my journey to the Fertile Region.

First stop: Ziguinchor. The Casamance’s regional capital is a fair distance from Dakar and numerous warnings about crummy roads (that barely even deserved to be call such) and very sketchy taxis that turn 6 hours into a two-day affair, coupled with the contrastingly enjoyable prospect of a maritime adventure, led us to choose the Dakar ferry as our means of transport. And an excellent choice it was – the 8pm departure furnished a beautiful panorama of Senegal’s capital city for the occasion, the glittering skyline quietly meshing into the star-lit night sky until finally Dakar disappeared altogether as the ferry pulled farther and farther away and we were left in the hushed darkness of the Atlantic Ocean. An evening on deck was filled with conversation, coffee and cookies, and after the enchantment of the nighttime sea had given way to tiredness, I climbed into my cozy cabin bunk and let the waves rock me to sleep…

Dakar's ferry port by night

The next morning saw a fairly early start. After a breakfast of chocolate, baguettes and café au lait (the recurring meal of the trip) with a very friendly French couple, it wasn’t long before our 15-hour ride had finally reached its destination. Amidst the belligerent crowd of hoteliers and taxi drivers that crowded the docks, we slowly pushed our way to the streets of Ziguinchor. As soon as we escaped, an immediate sense of calmness characterized this new city whose wide, sparsely-trodden roads, low buildings and impressive foliage (Dakar had me forgetting that the color green ever existed) was a dramatic contrast to the bustling streets of Dakar, so crowded with people and animals and vehicles coming and going in every direction without regard to anyone else. Here, people moved slower, smiled more, and made a really delicious yassa au poulet.

The welcoming shores of Ziguinchor!

But can you wait here a minute? Or a few, if you don’t mind; I’m going to leave you hanging for a day or two before I continue my vacation tales, lest I end up writing an entire novel in one go. So I’m stopping here, but I’ll add more soon. Until next time! Ba beneen yoon!

*Granted, I’m pretty certain those machetes were actually going to be used in the rice fields that pervaded the Casamansian countryside… but it sounds awfully more dramatic if I leave out the context.