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.
