Dakar, Senegal and Beyond or Watching the Sun Set over the Atlantic...

5 December 2011 – 9 December 2011

Wake up to Liam shuffling around the room. He was getting all dressed up to go to the embassy. Today they have all of their big meetings at the embassy and need to be there by nine. After being attacked by mosquitoes several times throughout the night, I was tired and a little grumpy. Why don’t “nice” African hotels have bug nets? Seriously. Malaria is a rather LARGE problem in your neck of the woods.

I slowly stir out of bed and begin to ponder what my day will entail. Since I’m still tired from our rather late arrival, I moving at the pace of a drugged snail. Manage to take a shower. Put on my bathing suit and sundress and decide to go for a walk around the hotel hoping to find breakfast out by the pool and ocean.  Head downstairs and begin to meander through the lobby. Liam was down here this morning and managed to tell me the pool area was really nice before he dashed out to the embassy.  There are a bunch of overpriced shops to the left of the atrium, a bar in the right corner, a restaurant serving what appears to be breakfast across the atrium from me and a hallway past the shops. I head to the hallway. Pass a business center (think Kinkos), then a hair salon. Walk through a set of sliding glass doors into the great outdoors and see a great pool area. There is also an ocean side restaurant to the right. Head down there and they are not serving breakfast.

Walk past the pool and head down the path to the ocean. What a fantastic sound as the water hits the shore. I’ll never get tired of listening to it. Sit on a bench in front of the water for about 15 minutes. Then, decide I’m hungry so I walk back to the restaurant that is serving breakfast.  The hostess gives me a dirty look. Apparently, now that I’ve adjusted to life on Africa time. I’m late. And have only a few minutes to gather the items I would like to ingest to satisfy my huger. So, one of the waiters follows me around and as soon as I grab something, he steals it from me and takes it to the table. Meanwhile, I’m dumbfounded. I’m not incompetent. And they apparently have not seen a ravenous American on a mission. I have two minutes to get everything I’m going to eat. Okay. Then, get out of my way and quit distracting me. So, I sent him on a mission for tea and juice. That bought me just enough time to grab some fruit, a yogurt, and a pastry. Everything was great. Especially the yogurt. It was nice, thick, creamy French plain yogurt. I could have eaten a vat of it. It’s hard to find yogurt like that in Dar.

Worth the view.

Head back up to the room to figure out the safe and get a book to read. Plus, I need to cover my whiteness in sunscreen. Sometimes, I forget that I don’t look like everyone around me. Until I’m resembling the high redness of a cooked lobster. I don’t come with fantastic dark skin as a natural sunscreen. I blame my parents. Western European muts that they are.

Head back to the pool area and absorb plenty of cancer causing rays. Spent about 30 minutes watching three lizards argue over who was going to win the area around a giant palm tree. It was pretty entertaining. They were bobbing up and down and then would turn and stare at me. As if I had any input. Really, I’m just the giant human with nothing better to do than watch lizards. Continue, as you should, lizards.

Try to get into the pool for a nice refreshing swim. Made it just past the belly button before I decided I was not about to freeze to death in the tropics. I’m still questioning how the water was so cold. It doesn’t make logical sense. Oh wait. It’s winter north of the equator. Why was I swimming outside in winter? See. Africa messes with your head.

Lay down on the lawn chair and warm back up. Read a few more chapters in my current Africa reading material Why Foreign Aid Isn’t Working: The Trouble with Africa by Robert Calderisi. (It’s a pretty interesting perspective on Africa’s failed finances).  Finally, start to feel a tiny bit hungry so head over to the bar area and order a delicious salad with mozzarella, prosciutto, and pesto. Wow. It’s almost like I’m back in the real world. Except for the lizards. Mosquitoes and general third worldness right outside the hotel. Weird how that happens though. Enjoy my salad and head back up the room to work on my schoolwork for a few hours before the guys come back to the hotel.

The guys come back from the embassy around 3:30 and I find out that they have another engagement at 7:45 tonight. No biggie. Liam and I head to the pool to talk about the rest of our time in Dakar and the rest of the trip. Al joins us about 45 minutes later. We decide to have dinner in the restaurant right by the ocean. While at dinner we decide to extend another two days at the hotel in order to have enough time to get our visas for Mali (all the other recommended hotels were full) and we are going to Goree Island the next day since it’s a Muslim holiday.

Next day (the 6^th), we get up and prepare for our ferry ride and adventure on Goree Island. Gather all the stuff we need and migrate to the harbor. We arrived to the port around 11:00am. The ferry wasn’t leaving for about an hour and tickets will begin to be sold around 11:30am. So, we grabbed a bunch of bananas and ordered a coffee from the local “Starbucks.”  An adorable older gentlemen making Nescafe coffee. To mix the coffee and hot water he would pour them back and forth between two cups. His pour technique rivaled some of the best bar tenders in the world. Impressive performance with a delicious result. Caffeinated and fed is the best way to jump on a boat for an island.  Get in line to buy our tickets. Explain to the ticket counter guy that we were African residents. Of course, we had to show proof because no one ever wants to believe that we are residents. Tickets are generally cheaper if you are an African resident. Some places only have discounts by region (common in East Africa). Regardless, move to the left and pass through a turn still. Have to show that we are residents again. Move into the sitting room and wait. Somehow we lose Al in the process, but that’s because he thought we were going back to get more coffee. Take a seat in the front of the waiting room (see I’m going native. Gotta be in the front).  All of a sudden a woman behind me begins to talk to us in English. Apparently, she thinks I have sucker written on my forehead. Her name is Fatima and she asks us to come by her shop to see her nice stuff. Of course she tells us, “I give you good price.” Don’t they always?

About this time, Liam decides he needs to wander. He leaves his bag and disappears up the stairs of the ferry waiting room. Al follows suit a little while later. While they are gone, two other people sit down. That’ll teach the guys to get up and leave their seats. Liam comes back down and tells me to come upstairs because there are some great areas to take pictures. He was right. We got a few shots of the Beer boat, the boat to Goree Island. There was also a HUGE container ship in port and another ferry that heads to Ziguinchor, in southern Senegal. 

Beer boat. Yes please.

Right at noon, they opened the doors from the waiting room (or holding tank) and allowed the masses to move to the boat. From a previous post – you know how this occurred. It’s always the same traffic flow patterns. Except they held everyone upstairs for a while until the crowd had thinned downstairs. As we made our way to the boat, we once again had to show proof that we are residents. Goodness. They are all paranoid that people aren’t going to do the right thing.

Get on the boat and head straight for the front. Except we should have sat on the starboard side to get the best pictures of the island as we approached it. The ferry ride was about 15 minutes long. During the boat ride, a few guys were playing with small gourds on the end of a string and making really cool music. We decided we would be buying several for presents and our own entertainment. 

Goree Island.

Boat docks at the pier and we all jump off the boat. There is a fort on the tip of the island that is now a historical museum for Goree Island and Senegal. On the outside of the fort, there are old canons to the right of the fort. What does Liam do as soon as he sees them? Runs over and straddles it. That seems so logical doesn’t it? Let me jump on a weapon, rocket, missile, etc. Big powerful weapons between your legs make you cool. Hmmmmm….maybe women really do have all the power in the world…

At a loss for words.

Wander around the fort. It reminded me of the Ship Island fort in the Mississippi sound. Except Ft Massachusetts is much larger and way more fun! Leave the fort and walk through the village of the island and visit a few shops with artwork and watch a few children playing drums. Meander over to a restaurant and enjoy a pretty tasty lunch. While we are eating lunch, Fatima and many other vendors came by several times to remind us to visit their stores or try to sell us their wares. While we are eating. Dude. Lunchtime is not shopping time. Unless I’m home by myself and bonding with Amazon.com. But, it’s a nice island café and I’m trying to enjoy my fish kabob and fruit cocktail.

A pathway

We did break down and buy some of the music balls from one of the guys on the boat. He let me make a video. Maybe. One day. We will have skills. But, since Liam and I are both musically un-inclined – probably not.
  

As we were finishing up lunch, I see a group of guys walking towards one of the docks with a ramp, a bungee cord, and roller blades/skates. Could all my dreams come true in this moment? Could they really be about to do what I think they are going to do? Why yes. They are. FANTASTIC.

After lunch we head over to the Maison-des-esclaves. This building was where they exported large numbers of Senegalese and West African men, women, and children for slavery. As horrible as it is to admit this – all I could think about was how much nicer this holding facility was than the one in Zanzibar. Regardless, it’s a horrible thing that happened to these families.  And they were treated so poorly. By colonists and fellow Africans.

Leave the Maison-des-esclaves and hide from a few of the vendors because they are literally following us around. Yes, I was hiding behind buildings and stealthily moving through the streets. Even though, we knew the vendors know the island better than we do. I just didn’t want to buy a necklace I will probably never wear.

We headed toward the dock to catch the boat. On the way back, I stopped and took a few pictures of the brightly colored fishing boats on the beach. Senegal is all about color. And I’m all about capturing it.

Boats of many colors.

While waiting in line to get on the boat, a guy approached Liam about buying more gourds-on-a-string. So, Liam asked him how much. He said 10,000 CFA for 2. Well, Liam said that was too much so he started bargaining with him for fun. At some point, the conversation flipped and Liam started trying to sell 2 of ours to the guy. Liam said, “I give you good price.” And the guy said okay. Until Liam quoted his price. “10,000 CFA for 2.” The salesman reached for his wallet and Liam pulled two gourds-on-a-string out of his bag and the salesman started shaking his head saying “Too much.” Wait a second. Isn’t that price you just tried to sell them to us for? Funny how that works.

Jump back on the boat and take the short ride back to the mainland.  On the way back to the hotel, we stop by the African Renaissance Monument. A guy from North Korea decided that Africa needed a Renaissance style statue. So, he designed and built one for them. There is an elevator you can take to the top of the guys hat, like the Statue of Liberty.  But, the monument was closed by the time we got there. And I don't know about you. But, I'm a little leery of a North Korean elevator in Africa. Plus, Liam wanted to admire the 40 foot boobs.

African Renaissance Monument at sunset

Head to the hotel to clean up and go to dinner. A friend recommended La Parrilla, an Argentinan steak place. We found the restaurant online and made our way there around 7pm. We were the only customers in the restaurant. Must be a place where people late. And I must say. The food was fantastic. Enjoy a nice dinner and head back to the hotel to sleep with a nice full belly.

Woke up on the 7^th, with Liam prepping to head to the embassy to turn in our passports for our Mali visas. However, his ID was MIA. We spend the next few hours hunting it down. To no avail. He has to run to a training event and gives me directions to find the Dakar embassy and where the travel office is in the embassy. So, I head to the car. Hoping I can find this place. Of course, I get downtown, make a few wrong turns and it takes me almost an hour to find the embassy. Finally, find a place to park and this guy walks up to me and in French (at least I think it was French) says that he will watch my car (I think). I tell him No. I don’t need him to watch my car. It’s a tank and will be just fine. So, I run into the embassy and argue with travel about it taking 4 days to get our visas when it should take 2 days MAX. They finally agree and say that we should have them back on Friday. A day too late but we can adjust our travel schedule. Drive to the port to see if Liam’s ID appeared there yesterday. Still no such luck. Ended up going a wrong way again and had no idea where I was. But, somehow figured it out and found the hotel. Order lunch and spend the afternoon relaxing. It was a rough morning.

The guys come back from the training event and we discuss dinner. We are meeting another one of the IRT guys and his wife for dinner. Well, right before dinner Liam gets sick. He rallies and we head to dinner. He avoids food and actually has to leave the table a few times to discard a previous meal and ingested bugs (aka food poisoning).

As we are walking back to the car, Liam walks over to a palm tree and covers the base in gastric contents. We get in the car to head to the hotel and my stomach starts to churn. CRAP. This isn’t good. Barely, make it to the hotel room and I am stripping my clothes off to make it to the bathroom. Yep. This sucks. We are going to be fighting for the bathroom ALL NIGHT LONG.

I spent the next day sleeping in bed and waking up and running to the bathroom. Liam felt better around 3pm and made it to the grocery store to pick up some juice and light food to munch on. I spent most of the day thinking I had malaria. But, finally decided I didn’t when I didn’t have a fever (Yes, I packed a thermometer). Al was also sick and spent the entire day in bed. Bottom line. Apparently, we needed to hang out in Dakar for an extra day b/c our bowels had BIG plans for us. Still not sure where we got sick. But, this is Africa. And it’s part of living on the continent.

Friday morning. We wake up and prepare to check out of this hotel (finally – we are free). Head to the embassy to drop off one of the vehicles and pick up our visas. Park the car within the embassy compound parking and head out of Dakar.

On the way into Dakar, Liam was eyeing some oranges that women were selling on the street. So, on the way out of town, that was all Liam would talk about. So, he bought a bag of oranges. They were pretty tasty. Excellent purchase, Liam!!!!

Drove back through Thies and headed towards Tambacounda, Senegal. It is a town near the border of Mali. My stomach was OFF the entire way there between my stomach bug and the bumpy roads. By the time we made it to the hotel, I thought I was going to die. We stayed at a B&B at the edge of Tambacounda called Le Relais de Tamba. It was a nice hotel. Just don’t ask them about the toilet in room 109. Somehow, Liam managed to separate the base from the floor and we clogged it.

After dinner, we headed to bed. It had been a long week and we are still feeling questionable. Sleep is going to help – I know it.

Trip 4: Where in the world is Nouakchott, Mauritania???

1 December 2011 – 4 December 2011

2:45 am. Our ride is here to take us to the airport. We tried to sleep for an hour, but it didn’t really happen for me. It’s going to be a LONG day of flying. We are headed to Mauritania. I know. Where is that? I had the exact same question when I heard someone say something about it. I had no idea. So, here’s a picture for you.

 

So, here we are in the middle of the night riding to the airport. Half awake. Overpacked. But, we are going for 41 days. We actually need 95% of what we brought. The other 5%. Crap we can’t seem to figure out how to leave at home. I don’t even really know what that 5% is. But, somehow, we have to get all this back home and all the stuff we buy in West Africa.

Oh yes. My birthday, our anniversary, Christmas, and New Years will all be spent somewhere in West Africa. The exact locations are unknown to us at this point. Because, I married a man who refuses to plan these trips. Which I’m starting to agree with, to an extent. It’s still important to figure out hotels for key dates. Like holidays.

Back to traveling. Uneventful flight to Nairobi. Even though the flight was only 1 hour, we received a breakfast. It’s nice to travel on airlines that still give you “free” food in flight. What a change from American air carriers. Arrive in Nairobi. Excuse the generalization I am about to describe – but its true. Please do not take offense. It's just what people do around here. Everyone stands up to gather their personal belongings and the Africans and Asians on the plane push everyone else out of the way to be the first people off of the plane. To stand on the tarmac and wait for the bus. We are almost the last two people off of the plane. And guess what?!?! We were still waiting for the bus. When the bus shows up, what do all the Africans and Asians do??? Run to the bus and sit in the front seats. Forcing everyone behind them to step over them. They have to prepare to be the first one off of the bus. Our enjoyment came after all of these people pushed their way through to cram onto this bus and the second bus showed up. It was of course twice the size of the first bus. We laughed as the first bus pulled away with everyone packed in there like sardines. And I know it’s cultural. But, seriously. QUIT PUSHING ME. It’s not really going to help you with anything.

Wander around the Nairobi airport to find our next flight to Dakar, Senegal. They are in the middle of rebuilding the airport because of the amount of people that travel through there every year. We finagled our way through the masses and found our gate. Of course, there was a line. Lots of pushing and cutting. Seriously. I’ve become that really rude person that stands there and blocks the path because I’m so sick of being pushed around.

Get situated in the gate and wait. Forever. Like usual. I actually think our flight was only 20-30 minutes delayed but it was HOT. And neither one of us handle hot well. The flight was great. I slept through most of it. Liam told me that at one point we hit some turbulence and the guy across the aisle from him whipped out his prayer beads (Muslim guy) and started saying “Allah Akbar.” This of course drove Liam nuts. Not because he was saying his prayers but because he was saying it loud enough to wake him up during his nap. At which point, Liam made the comment “I think the guy next to me is a terrorist.” But, then again after three deployments, every person who says “Allah Akbar” in a group of people is a terrorist to Liam. Had one stop in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire. More food provided on each leg of this flight. When the plane landed, the same generalization from above happened. Except it was worse this time.

Land in Senegal and have a couple of hours until our flight to Nouakchott, Mauritania.  In the airport, there were tiny baobab trees for sale. It took everything I had not to buy one. They are such beautiful trees. And probably my favorite in the world so far. But, what am I going to do with a live tree as we wander around West Africa??? Also, we stopped at a café to have a cold beverage. Of course, the guy running it didn’t have change and took over an hour to give Liam back his 1000 CFA (about $2) in change. Seriously, how is it so hard to have change when you are in the service industry. It’s part of your job. Exchanging money. Sigh.

Arrive in Mauritania. Meet the expeditor. Go through customs without drama only because we had the expeditor. Apparently, Mauritanians aren’t the biggest fans of Americans or expats. Without an expeditor (even with our dip passports), the customs agents would have found a reason to search through our bags. Makes me wish I packed a little differently. There's ALL kinds of stuff I could have packed just for reaction expressions of the guards. But, then again. That might have put my head on a Most Likely to be Kidnapped by AQIM poster. Must remember not to stir the pot with people who actually want to kill me.

Head to Al’s. He has a great house with a really cool Alice and Wonderland courtyard. Settle in, eat some dinner, and head to bed.

All it's missing is the Queen of Hearts...

Wake up the next morning (2^nd Dec). Daylight adds a new perspective to Mauritania. And I must say. It didn’t enhance the view.  There was trash everywhere. Donkeys, goats, and wild dogs with puppies chewed on the trash all day, everyday to find any piece of food they could. It looked like all of the nasty pictures Liam has shown me of Iraq and Afghanistan. There was a nasty “puddle” across the side “street” of Al’s house. I told Liam we can never move there because we would end up with 20 dogs in our house. There is no way I would be able to look at those puppies every day and not give them a good home. 

Donkey and trash.

Someone's drinking water to the left, goats, puppies, trash. Just another day in Mauritania.

Across the street, there was a beautiful compound with their slaves beside them in a make-shift tent. Apparently, until 2007, slavery was legal. Well, now that slavery is outlawed, these people are indentured servants because there is absolutely no way they can survive without their employers. How come this information doesn’t make international news. Oh. I know why. Who knows where Mauritania is???

The guys head to the embassy for a little while to check email and find out what needs to be done before we leave on the West Africa road trip. I hang out at the house and work on school stuff and information for this trip. Eat dinner and then head to a bonfire on the beach. Met a lot of really cool people. It’s such a different expat community than in Dar. Probably because it’s Mauritania and it’s basically a hell-hole that the various governments have dumped people in and said, “have fun for two years”. Fingers crossed we don’t EVER have to go there for a post.

Spend most of the 3^rd, prepping for the trip and repacking our stuff. The guys made a trip to the embassy to check email and follow-up on a few things. A rather boring day overall.

The 4^th, begins our West African adventure. We are hitting the road. Woke up. Did a few loads of laundry and finished packing my stuff. The guys went to the embassy again to take care of paperwork and a few other things we needed before we left town.  Washed and refilled our water bottles. Gathered snacks.

Got on the road about noon with 30 copies of Ordre de Mission, a document that states our reason to be on the road and we are allowed to travel outside of the city. You have to give a copy to a policeman at every checkpoint. There is a checkpoint about every 50kms. And of course, they speak French or Arabic. Good thing Liam has some French and I’m good with hand gestures. Once we figured out which road would take us south to Senegal. Seriously, Nouakchott looks the exact same in every direction. I don’t know how anyone could actually choose to live there. Or find there way out of town. But, I did get some great pics of Home Depot, the butcher, and camels.

Home Depot. Mauritanian style. (Actually, African style).

The Butcher. See Goats. See dinner.

CAMELS!!!!

We headed south through the Sahel. It was really beautiful. Red sand dunes with sparse vegetation. I can only imagine what is over that dune and beyond. I know it’s the Sahara but I really wish we were closer to see it. I’m going to take a couple of pictures on the way back. We were in two vehicles since we have to caravan to the border and it was too hard to stop for that kind of photo session.

On the way down, we pass a truck with two camels in the back. I didn’t realize there were two camels until after we passed. To which I stated. “OMG. STOP. Let them pass us. WE HAVE TO GET A PICTURE OF THAT.” And then we started laughing. Because the silly camels kept posing. Seriously, they are very quirky and funny characters. I’m a fan.

Who knew this was even freaking possible????!!!!?!?!?! One camel maybe...but two. AWESOME.

Got to Rosso, Mauritania. This is the border town to cross into Senegal on a ferry. The ferry crosses the Senegal River. Back and forth from 8 am until 6pm with a three hour lunch. I’m just glad the boat didn’t flip like the one in Zanzibar. That would have been pretty nasty water to swim in. Once we were across the river, we met a few people who offered to be our expeditors. Even though we didn’t need them. While we were getting our passports stamped and approved, a few guys took it upon themselves to wash our cars with mud, nasty river water which left a horrible dirty film across the windshield and then wanted us to pay them. I’m sorry but #1 - I did not ask you to wash my car & #2 – Please at least use clean water and a clean rag so that I can see while I’m driving and don’t die on the crazy roads in Africa. Thanks. 

So, we get in our car and head to the gate. Well, in one of the expeditor's minds he helped us get through the border and we must pay him. Even after we told him we didn’t need his help. We were able to get through the border gate, but he refused to let Al through without paying the “fee.” GRRRRR. This is the crap in Africa that makes me crazy. 

Crossing the Senegal River.

Drive through Saint Louis and head to Dakar. Saint Louis could be so beautiful. It’s near the mouth of the Senegal River. There are birds flying all around. Then, you see the trash. And all the people peeing on the side of the road. Then, more trash. And it makes you rethink coming back for a visit. So sad. Some people have no idea what is in their backyard.

Reach Thies. Make a wrong turn, make a right turn, and end up behind a horrible line of traffic on our way into Dakar. Finally, get through the traffic and into Dakar. Find our hotel, the Le Meridian, off of an inadequate map. We check in. Head to our room.  Since all of the restaurants are closed we order room service from their late night menu. Two cheeseburgers and fries please. Before dinner arrived, I spied a cockroach. In a previous version of myself, I might have demanded to move to a new room. But, the Africa me told Liam to kill it. Only because he was closer to it.  Assess the room and decide we are disappointed in the quality per cost and vow to never stay here again. We are both a little annoyed by the lack of mosquito net.  Not really sure why they missed this detail. Also, no bug spray. Now, I’m starting to wonder if the ONE can we brought is going to last us through this entire West Africa trip. Probably not.

Dinner arrives and we inhale it. Clean up and head to bed. Fall asleep sans mosquito net hoping that I suddenly turn into a block of ice and they don’t find me quite as delicious as they normally do. Liam’s safe because they prefer my blood.

All in all, it was a MUCH longer day then we expected.