Spring Break Part Trois - LAST PART! YAY!

Thursday – Alice and I had every intention of leaving early on Thursday morning to get to the ferry, but the Gambian family Ioana introduced us to told us they would drive us to the ferry because the mom works at the ferry. Seemed convenient and we knew it’d be a little later than we wanted but it was cheaper than paying a taxi. So first of all, the mom said she’d be there between 7:30 and 8am which really meant 8:15. Then we had to stop at her office. Then we’d go to the ferry. So, we awkwardly waited in the office IT department and used the internet to check our email with some dudes and a few ladies. The advantage to having the Gambian mom bring us was she bought us our tickets and she let us sit in the VIP room to wait for the ferry. Yep, VIP room. It was kind of awkward because we weren’t important at all…and there was like a sign in book that some seemingly important people had used but who were we to complain when there was only one ferry running. We had to wait forever of course for the ferry then risk our lives as large vehicles came off the ferry and we stood on either side of the dock. Yea never had large 18-wheel trucks so close to my toes and I don’t care to do it again. Of course we were like cool now we’ll get good seats. Well me being the reject that I am, I see that there are two benches on the first floor. Means no stairs right? Well I would have rather had the stairs. First off we had two big ladies sitting across from us with just as much crap as me. Then some lady claimed she’s sick and needs to share our bench. Dude it can fit two people…but she shoved herself in. Lucky me I’m shoved into the metal wall and my knee is pinned by my luggage to said metal. Feels fantastic to sit for an hour like that. Yay. I still don’t believe that lady that she was sick. Stupid…

We finally get off the ferry so of course a taxi man starts following us and being mildly irritating. Alice had to go pee and I was hungry but all I wanted was to get to the border. So we walk out into the pool of taxis, cars, and car rapides into insanity. Men start touching me and trying to talk to me and of course I’m pissed. Don’t f***ing touch me! I don’t understand why they don’t get that this is not acceptable. One dude was like “whoa whoa relax relax” in his stupid Gambian accent. F**K off because when someone steals my sh*t you won’t want to see me mad. This is me relaxed when I’m getting swarmed thanks dude. Finally one of the men lead us to a sept-place taxi going to the border. We hop in to the back back seat of course because we cook better that way. They were going for well done white meat. It was way too hot in this car and we were all shoved in. Finally we made it to the border. Alice made her way to the sketchy bathrooms as I scanned for food. We found a lady making egg sandwiches. She was super awkward because she tried to use like 3 english words over and over again. Then some Wolof or Seerer or something.

Eventually we found a taxi. Not really a taxi though I suppose. It was just some dude using his car to make money. I don’t care what color the car is I’ll call it a taxi. So we found a sept-place again to make our way to Kaolack. I think at this point we were pushing like 2pm. We were way later than we thought we would have been. Now, I wish I had inspected this car some before I got in it because then I would have realized that the back bumper was falling off which allowed the hatch to hang open a solid 2 inches. So as we are flying over sand dunes at about 40mph on the side of the road what happens to the hatch? Oh yea it opens up and my piece of luggage goes flying out the back. Totally normal. So the handle was broken and the zipper got messed up. Cool. This puts me in a fantastic mood. This was the most terrifying sept-place ride yet because this was that bad stretch of road where the sand was preferable to pavement but this guy was going far too fast for sand or pavement. Of course the giant sausage fest in the car didn’t help our case. It was all men besides me and Alice so I feel like men just think live fast die young with lots of wives in this country. Stupid idiots.

We made it to Kaolack in an hour and a half. Should have taken us two. My point proven. But it was nice to make up a little lost time as long as I didn’t die in the process. We take a taxi from the gare routiere to our little Auberge (hostel essentially). It’s a nice little room. The lock was a really bizarre one with like a 4 sided key but we got an air conditioned room (we had to pay more for that one oops). It had a nice functioning shower and a big bed with a bug net and we got breakfast. Which Alice and I didn’t know about! It was a great little place. Kaolack was nice too. It’s a small but bustling village/city. Since Alice and I got there at like 4pm we had to be strategic in what we wanted to do. So we looked at the map and walked a loop around the city. There was a rather large market which was really nice because no one tried to follow you to “show” you where to shop and when I tried to buy a pair of flip-flops I had a hard time keeping the vendor’s attention rather than him pressuring me. We found a bank because we had nearly run out of money in Gamibia. Oops.

After we finished our walk we had seen a nice bar and grill that said pizzeria on the top. Alice had been craving pizza for a while at this point so we figured it be the perfect place. We stopped back at the hostel to shower and clean up. Then went to the gas station to buy some juice and water. We found the bar and grill. Dinner was great there even though it was a bit pricey. Alice’s pizza looked amazing and my hamburger complete (with egg and cheese) hit the spot. We had ice cream to top it all off because we deserved it after that long day of traveling. We were exhausted and had to be up early the next morning to go to Touba so we went right to bed when we got back.

Friday – Ohhh the bus ride from hell. So Alice and I ventured out early that morning to find some breakfast because we didn’t know at the time that the hostel had breakfast. So we found some bread and when we got back we ate that and had some café milk stuff and water at the hostel. We paid and off we went again. Off to the gare routiere. When we arrived it was so easy to find a vehicle going where we were going because the whole garage cover was labeled with each slot. So we asked how much a sept-place was but then some guy steered us towards a big white van that looks like some of our car rapides. He said this was only 1500CFA which is three dollars US and like a third of the price of a sept-place. Little did Alice and I know at the time but we got what we paid for! Lucky us. So first off all we waited three hours for this bus to fill up. Most of which was waiting on like 3 seats to fill. Cheap jerks. Then we finally took off at noon and of course even though this is supposed to be a two hour ride we ended up stopping all over the place for people to get on and off on the way. Cooooollllll. We finally hit Touba around 4pm. We got off in the middle of nowhere desert land at a gas station. They had food and I needed something for lunch so I inhaled a steak sandwich and we asked how to get to the hotel. Oh this is Mbacke by the way not Touba yet even. So they tell us there are some busses across the way that’ll take us. There’s some dude sleeping on the bus so we ask him how we get there. He points out a bus and with only two of us we wait 15 minutes then they take us on their way. We found the campement/hotel.

Let me just say in advance of my description that this may be tainted by lack of patience and two full days of traveling and the stress of running out of money but to be fair this was the worst place I’ve ever stayed in my life. We get there and there’s some young dude with huge headphones around his neck watching TV with some chick. So the chick shows us to our room with a mangled lock/handle. That alone was concerning because I had my laptop with me.

The room was spacious enough with two beds and a dinky little TV set on a little table. The bathroom had a good sized shower and was nice enough. However, no toilet paper, no soap, the bathroom I later found was still dirty when we arrived with hair from someone not Caucasian. There was also gum stuck to the wall in our bedroom for some bizarre reason and later that night we had a wicked mosquito infestation and they didn’t have mosquito nets. So we go back to tell them we want to go to Touba because we gotta get moving! At this point it’s already like 4:30/5pm ish and we’ve got 2.5 to 3 hours of daylight left. We go back and they tell us we need to wear our pan (traditional skirts) and cove our hair. Good thing Alice and I had both brought our Senegalese skirts and had scarves. I knew we would have to cover up but I wasn’t sure how much.

During this changing time, Alice and I know we don’t have much cash so I ask if I can pay for the hotel with my card. I ask the chick because she was walking in front of me and she mumbled something about “later” so I saw her in the hall a few minutes later and asked again. She freaked out on me telling me how she doesn’t know and I finally realize she doesn’t actually work there?! WTF?! Oh we also didn’t have towels to start off with. Anyways…so back to the trip to the Grand Mosque. So the chick offers to call us a cab. He rolls up demanding like 3000CFA which is ridiculous but we don’t really have time to argue and this chick wasn’t helping our case. They all stick together around here to charge the toubabs too much anyways. We roll into Touba…not what I expected. There is one huge road running through it with nice sidewalks and a cement center divide. There are banks and businesses and stuff. Then at the end is the Grand Mosque in all its glory. There was supposedly a huge market somewhere but we never saw that. It’s also entirely black market because the Marabouts run the whole city. I kinda wanted to go to it just because of that fact.

So Alice and I got a tour of the Mosque from some dude. We arrived at an hour of prayer so we had to wait a bit first. The Grand Mosque was really beautiful and we got to see the library where Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba’s, their big prophet dude who saved Senegal or something, writings are kept. Anywho, you have to look at the pictures on facebook to understand the glory of the mosque. Then Alice and I bought water and found a cheaper taxi back to the hotel. Of course the taxi didn’t have change nor did the reject who ran the hotel we were at. So the hotel guy said he’d have change later. We ended up just taking it out of the price. Speaking of price this was the most expensive hotel we had stayed in. Bullshit.

It was dinner time. So we asked the idiot what he had for dinner because they have this huge set up of tables and such and a bar. It looks like it could be a restaurant. What’s this kids answer? Chicken. Yep one word answer according to Alice. Chicken. You have to be kidding me. So, Alice and I were forced to walk a kilometer to the gas station where they had a creepy restaurant with enclosed rooms. Yea like false walls enclosing tables so that it was like a private dining experience. Creepy and awkward. Not as awkward as the house in Gambia though. Then we had to walk back in the dark. A little scary.

Now before we had left, I complained to the mother of the idiot we met when we came in because she seemed to be in charge. She saw me standing to wait to talk to her as she talked to another man and walked out of her office anyways. I was pissed because not only is her son an asshole but so is she. Cool. They took 1000CFA off the price and said they’d give us breakfast. When we got back from our gas station dinner (which was disgusting pizza not made with real sauce) we asked what time breakfast was supposed to be. Our mentally challenged host said 7:30am. I told Alice I wanted to leave 10000CFA and ditch in the morning. She wasn’t thrilled with this idea. But, morning rolled around and, in light of all our travel woes, we wanted to leave early but no breakfast at 7:30. We started to leave with 10000CFA on the table of our room because no one was around when at 8am that idiot turned up in the kitchen. So after I yelled at him and he looked panicked, we got breakfast. We were late once again. We took a taxi to Touba to a bank because we had run out of money. Of course. We went to the bank and walked with all my lovely luggage (because I’m an idiot and packed too much) to the Gare Routiere. We took another taxi for like 3 minutes because it was too far for me to walk with the luggage. And here we go again with shitty transportation.

We got to the Gare Routiere in Touba and found a sept-place. This sept-place however was going to cost us 3,500CFA each. We tried to bargain lower but when Alice said “wanni ko” which means lower it in Wolof they just all laughed at us. Seeing as we were tight on money and I was sick of the circle of men ripping us off we walked off. The guy who was trying to find us transportation pointed to a bus. Now to be fair, this bus was like a tour bus with cushy seats and everything unlike the white car rapide bus we took between Kaolack and Touba with metal seats and barely any cushioning. It was also the right price at 1500CFA. Sweet on we go!

First problem, poor Alice got stuck next to a fidgeting baby. That was a bummer. I got stuck next to a woman who felt it was her job to violate my personal space. Overall though it wasn’t bad. BUT! 30 minutes…yep count em folks…30 minutes into the drive our bus breaks down. Awesome…I was already in a supremely grumpy mood because of how that morning had went and now it was worse. Alice was trying to be optimistic about it and said well they have to send another bus. No actually they don’t. There’s no AAA in this country and no standards for travel as we had clearly experienced. So do they have to get us another bus? No they don’t.

About an hour later, a bus with people already on it shoved us all in except for a few and we took off…at the pace of a turtle. And this bus was only taking us to Pikine (outside of the city). The men on the bus were also dropping the word TOUBAB left and right. We understand some Wolof asshole. Aren’t you awesome judging people at face value. It took us from 12pm to 4 pm to reach Dakar. Should have been 2 hours to Dakar but we hit a shit ton of traffic in Rufisque and stopped at every little stand on the road between the two cities. There are women who stand on the side of their road in their desolate home villages and sell food and water. We got the grand tour and stopped at literally each one. Shoot me in the face. Luckily Alice and I were by the open back door so it aired out.

So we got to Pikine, took a taxi to MyShop and had a pizza. It had been a rough day and I really didn’t want Alice to think I was such an awful person (I know I’m a grump when things go wrong). I figured pizza was a good way to end our trip. And it was. We went our separate ways to home for a calm Saturday night. I slept a lot on Sunday needless to say! So there it is. My spring break adventures from the sand dunes of Senegal.

Stay tuned for updates about some other fun weekend’s I’ve had since then!

Spring Break Part Deux

Monday - is Banjul day. Ioana and I had been staying in Bakau which is a small little townish outside of Banjul so at this point all we had seen of Banjul was the ferry terminal and the drive out of the city. Since Ioana would be leaving Tuesday we decided to spend the day there. So we took a taxi that probably cost a bit too much. We arrived to the Albert Market. Similar to markets in Dakar, this market is all along the roads but there is also an archway that leads you into the main market area where you walk through a maze of vendors. We didn’t go far into the maze of stores because we weren’t really looking to buy much. Now there is something good to be said about this Gambian market. Although there are tons of bumster men running scams all over the place, the market was clear of the creeps who follow you trying to “show” you where to shop and lead you around then ask you for money. I could not have been more thrilled because those men are the ones that make me want to physically injure them. I could still hear catcalls all over the place but whatevs those I can ignore.

So after the market, we decided to walk towards a nice park looking thing…there was also a place that looked free of people so we could take pictures. Yea that place is free of people because it’s the entrance to the military complex. Oops! So that was a bad life choice and made for some awkward scolding by some army dude like we were little kids. Nope we’re not mentally challenged we are just tourists. Ioana then wanted to find the Tanbi Wetlands. Now if you look at a map of Banjul this is a huge section that should pretty much smack you in the face as you walk up on it. We thought it’d be easy to find by walking. Turns out that walking there was the worst idea ever.

First problem was that we walked all of the city about twice for like an hour and a half. We then found an internet café which made me happy because I was waiting on an important email from Wells. So we decide to go in and Ioana has the awesome thought to look up Banjul on Google Maps. I was too distracted by the excitement of connecting back to real life to come up with solid plans like this one. So we found our path though we were tired and hot. We get on the correct road (there are limited signs but there are more than Dakar) and walked ALL the way back down the length of the city. Finally we come to this four way stop and we have two options. One sign says the name of the road we want but I think it’s pointing in the wrong direction and the other direction which I thought would be the right one looked just as shady. Dirty roads with dirty men lurking. Yay. So we take the road marked with the name we recognize. OF COURSE! The road sign was wrong because why would we need correct signage on our roads. So we went back while being a bit bothered by some dirty men and too the turn instead. This was creepy road where all the cars in Gambia came to die. It was like walking through a junk yard/dock. We did however find the wetlands. The dirty, polluted and sad wetlands. Have to say they were not worth the trouble but perhaps if we hadn’t been cheap college students and perhaps taken a boat from a less dirty end they would have been more appealing. I know that sentence wasn’t grammatically correct in any way, shape or form but it got the idea across. So we took several pictures and investigated some while huge trucks blew past us and send half the Sahara desert with them as they passed. We finally ventured our way back to lunch!

Sorry to Ioana who had to deal with a grumpy Sammy during the wetlands adventure. Part of the problem was I was not well fed. We should have learned our lesson with the forest and grumpy Sammy part one. We found King of Shwarma and it was good. I did have to yell at a vendor who came up to us while we were eating. F***ing rude. Just sayin’. And then we tried to grab a taxi home. One man came up to us and tried the don’t you recognize me from the hotel skit. This is getting old by now. Then we found the world’s worst cab driver. Seriously the worst. Let me explain why I never want to hear you complain about bad driving again unless you are in an actual accident:

First off, this kid was as cheap as they come and stupid. On our way out of town he stops by a crowd of creepy men and as they swarm the car Ioana and I can just remember the guy who ripped open our taxi doors this morning as we were leaving trying to get us out of the car. A little scary. Now we were swarmed by bums. Somewhere in this mix, a woman and her child and a man with her try to get in the car. The man made the mistake of trying to open my door. Nope dude don’t touch my door. Feeling a bit protective of my door right now. So they get in and we leave. Now I realized as we are driving that we passed BOTH turns towards Bakau and are heading somewhere else. This idiot decided to drop this woman off in Westfield then loop ALL THE WAY back to Bakau. This is like the least logical pair of stops ever. Way to be cheap kid. You’re losing money anyways just by the longer route just fyi. Also while we are driving this kid is freakin texting and swerving a bit. Now this was hardly noticeable on the big wide roads but as our roads got narrower and narrower towards Bakau this was terrifying! He wasn’t paying any goddamn attention. So as this gets progressively worse, I tell Ioana I don’t want to pay him in full and then she starts freaking out not to be mean. I thought it was perfectly fare (haha word play see that?). And, as if to further verify that he is a delinquent in need of ADHD medication he takes his key out of the ignition while driving, picks his ear wax with it, and reinserts the key. I guess he thought it just needed some lubrication. The good news is we made it back alive the bad news is I felt like a mother ready to give a lecture. Awkward angry moments. So that was our day in Banjul. This is why I say our first night should have been a solid indication as to the crappy driving we’d face in the future.

We hung around in the pool and stuff then I wanted to eat. Night had fallen and Ioana was a bit scared of walking to far in the dark. I was a little concerned but less so I think. So we went to the bar were we had eaten before. Ioana practically ran there she was walking so fast. Of course it took forever to get our food. So while we were talking, the guy who had bugged us our first night there came up to talk to us. Ioana and I were in the middle of a conversation but these people, as nice as they think they are, have a) no concept of personal space and b) no concept of a private conversation. I tried to respond politely and as he apologizes for interrupting and tries to sit down I tell him we are in the middle of a conversation. It was rude! I wasn’t trying to be nasty but even my version of nice seemed mean to him and he removed himself from the table. Bumster 0 Sammy 1. I win! My steak sandwich was phenomenal though so I can’t complain too much. Then me and Ioana returned and watched a movie. It was a good night over all and a great day in Banjul despite our wetland mishap. Off to bed early because Tuesday is Border Switch day.

Tuesday – BORDER SWITCH!!! Bam like magic Alice was transported to Gambia and Ioana was transported home in no time at all! Bahaha not really how it went but this was our best travel experience as far as I’m concerned. Ioana and I got up SUPER early and found a taxi to Banjul to catch the ferry. Today was our lucky day! There were two ferries running! YAY! Double the fun. And by that I mean half our travel time. So we got right onto a ferry and were over in a flash (and by that I mean 45 minutes) then made our way up to the border. We took taxis both times which Alice and I learned later is too expensive and that public transport is better. But anyways, we made our way to the border easily which is the weird part and met up with Alice. I had to wait awkwardly at the Gambian border post but it was fun to people watch and speak to some of the guards. I don’t know what took Alice so long to cross but it was nice we made it to the border by like 9am. Couldn’t have asked for a quicker travel time. Then it got better! Once Alice crossed over we were looking for a taxi and instead there was a cheap van going with a bunch of people. YAY! Cheap cheap!

So we sat on the bus and Alice told me her interesting and somewhat horrifying stories about the village. Like how her host mom cut a little boy open after he got a hold of a razor blade and cut his little sister. I suppose eye for an eye…but it isn’t quite the same as pulling hair. Just sayin’. You’ll have to read her blog for the rest. We got to the ferry and for some odd reason got pulled in to have Alice’s bags inspected. They didn’t even inspect them at the border so this seemed a bit late and unnecessary. We waited for the ferry and got a snack and such. This wait was much easier because there were less people and Alice and I decided not to run like Ioana and I. Much better life choice but like I said it was easier because there were less people. We got to the hotel pretty seamlessly and decided to relax. Alice was tired and wanted to enjoy the luxury of running water and I was tired and wanted to enjoy the luxury of doing nothing. It was a win/win.

Luckily that night we also found cheap food! We went into this little place with literally two tables inside and several outside with creepy red lighting. However small and weird, the plates were like 50 Dalasi for good food versus like 215 Dalasi at that bar Ioana and I had eaten at. Damn that’s a good price! And the fries were to die for! They were fresh potato and oil fries. So good! To top it all off the names of the two dudes who ran it were Prince and Moses. Not sure where they came up with those bizarre names but they were interesting characters for sure. We then watched Due Date (the new movie) with some tea and cookies. Most relaxed day yet I do believe!

Wednesday – Banjul Part II. Since Alice had not yet seen Banjul or anything for that matter we made a game plan for the day and were off on new adventures for her and some of the same for me. I say the same but it was all different than me and Ioana’s experience which seemed really strange to me. First, we went to the Crocodile pool. I won’t bore you with a repeat about this BUT this time Alice and I got to TOUCH THE CROCODILE! So cool! I even have photos to prove it. Omar was a sport bringing us there again and I was sad I had to pay twice but hey at least this time I got to touch the croc!

Then, we went to Banjul and this time Alice and I took the minibuses (which are really minivans) to the city which again were WAY cheaper. Made me happy anyways. Ioana and I chose to see other parts of Banjul on our trip but Alice decided we should see the National Museum and I agreed completely. Despite Lonely Planet’s description of the place, it was a cute museum with good exhibits I thought. The layout was a bit confusing but that’s bound to happen the way things are organized in West Africa but there were some really cool artifacts and historical stuff. There was also a music room down in the basement which was pretty cool. At the start of our visit there was a school visiting with a huge group of kids who couldn’t care less so that was a bit irritating but overall it was cool. I did have to go pee on the way out and made the mistake of thinking their bathrooms MIGHT be decent because this is a public tourist spot. Nope scariest bathroom ever. Like a little hall way with a toilet at the end and a nasty sink and no tp. Of course no toilet paper. This was like a hallway out of the Willy Wonka Factory and I was afraid the walls might start closing in on me so I didn’t take my time.

After the museum, we went to lunch at Ali Baba’s which is a chain I know well from Dakar. They always seem to have good food. So Alice and I chose a table near the door. If only we could have seen into the future. All of a sudden this nasty smelly dude starts trying to sell us some baby shit and shaking a rattle toy at us. At first I try nicely to tell him to go away. Then he continues to harass us and I tell him he’s just straight up rude. He went away for a little while sensing my anger. He clearly didn’t sense my anger well enough. He tried AGAIN! So I finally yelled at him. This guy continued to hang around the door (which is like a large open store front btw) and then entices some kids of a family who are eating in there with the toys he has. He totally disrupts the family’s lunch because now the kids are crying and whining about the toys they want. At least in the states you can just leave your whiny kid home. Here you have these toys constantly in their face and they ask for them just like any kid would. How irritating. I wanted to throw a hard object at the man but I had nothing useful to throw. Now that I’ve written this I actually remember this is Alice and I having lunch the day she arrived on Tuesday. Nevermind that now. It was still an irritating experience.

After the museum we ACTUALLY went to a restaurant down towards Arch 22. The restaurant was nice and dark and cool inside but empty. It didn’t seem to have a great menu but the food was good enough. The server was super awkward. What’s new. And there was some strange man who came up to us twice to talk to us. The first time he completely embarrassed himself because he asked if we were someone…and we weren’t the people he was looking for. The next time he thought we were from the states which instantly makes us like a novelty in this country. Great. Yea yea we’re from the states. Yea yea democracy. Yea yea Obama messing up my Pell Grant so no I’m not happy about that. Always the same conversation really.

After lunch I showed Alice the market. Cool as it was the first time I suppose! We went a little further into the maze which was scary and cool all at the same time. Then we found the internet café to feed our need for a connection to media and real life. Then we walked to the park and took some pictures. Then we found the minibuses home! I was surprised we found the minibus station so easily but it was just a really nice relaxed day in Banjul! It was awesome.

That night we decided to try a new venue for dinner and we ended up in yet another extraordinarily awkward situation. We found we were very good at finding ourselves in these awkward moments. There was a little bar and grill just to the left of our alley way to the hotel. They actually share a wall with our hotel so that’s how close this was. We walking and look around. As you look around it looks like a building, some laundry hanging out to dry to the right, a bar set up to the left, and tables randomly dispersed there. First, we asked to see the menu because we are cheap college students who can’t afford much and want to check the prices. So she tells us to sit down while we look. The menu had more spelling mistakes which made you wonder if a small child wrote it but the prices weren’t bad and there were some good options. This particular night in Bakau was really windy and chilly so we figured hey there’s probably seating inside right? Wrong.

Alice and I made the mistake of asking if there was seating indoors as we were standing up and immediately the family surrounded us and stuff and brought us into the house. Yep that’s right! This building wasn’t a restaurant or some indoor seating this is their personal house. So as we start to say no we can sit outside she starts shuffling people around and throws us in some poor girls room. Yea….we’re sitting in a teenage girl’s bedroom over her little bedside table in two lawn chairs. Couldn’t get more awkward right? Well not only did we wait a while debating whether to move back outside or not but as we were ready to get up and leave, a naked little boy came to our door and stared at us. We were on our way out anyways so that was a bit less awkward but I have to say it’s a long way from anything I’ve ever had to deal with. Then we went to Prince and Moses’ shop for their fries. They were so good the night before we just had to have them again!

We showed up to the shop and to Moses’ surprise we only wanted fries and I ordered a coke because I have a soda addiction. It’s a problem I know. He gave Alice a coke too assuming that we just needed to have two and probably to just get our money. So we finished our fries and to our lovely surprise we were told to wait that they have a surprise for us. The boys had made us a fish and onion jazz! Very nice of them. Of course the night before they asked us for our phone number and email. Alice and I gave false numbers and real emails. No one has to really answer email. Then Alice had her camera so we decided pictures would be cool. What I forgot to tell Alice that night was how Moses slowly slide his hand down to my ass while she was taking a picture to get a free feel. Less than impressed but nothing about it surprised me that’s the sad part. End of day four. Off early in the morning on Thursday.

Spring Break Adventures:Part 1

This is probably going to be waaayy to long for one post so I’m thinking an exciting three part series for this blog post. Spring break was so eventful, relaxing, stressful, and bizarre that it just can’t be condensed. Let’s start with my departure: the scene is Dakar way too early on a Saturday morning…

So I started my morning dark and early at 6:30am on the streets of Ouakam. I waited for a taxi and I was a bit grumpy because he gave me a crappy price. He was way to chipper and found it appropriate to shove his cup of Café Touba in my face to offer me some. Actually sir, no I don’t want your café touba because I don’t like coffee and you probably brush your teeth by picking at them with a stick like most people do here. But thanks anyways. We all met up at Ioana’s house in Mermoz but Alice hadn’t gotten anything to eat for breakfast or on our car ride so we went to Brioche Doree across the street. YAY! I love their pastries! This made my morning especially since I accidentally bought two chocolate croissants because I wasn’t paying attention. Double the fun! So we took our taxi to the Gare Routiere. Now in French Gare means train station but this is more of a station wagon station. See to get most places in Senegal there are two options: bus or sept-place taxi. We’ll learn why the bus around is the worst transportation you’ve ever taken in your entire life but that’s later. Sept-places on the other hand are these bizarre station wagon mutants. Their interior has been ripped apart to add a third row of seating so that you can fit 7 people plus the driver hence the name SEPT-place. It was surprisingly easy to find one heading to Karang (the Senegalese border town). Unfortunately, every sept-place made you wonder if you had your tetanus shot updated lately or when was the last time you found it acceptable to shove 9 people in a station wagon. Yes I say nine because we had a little girl sitting on her mom’s lap/slumped on the floor the whole way. We, the three toubabs, got shoved in the back back seat. Now since these seats sit over the back axel we have less head space, luggage directly behind us, and the metal protecting you from the tire below is the modern invention of plastic! Yes these are just in case you didn’t want to cook breakfast on the hot wheel well while you were riding along. So with us three, 5 other adults and the little girl on board we were off and out of the reach of all the vendors  who had been sticking their arms and limbs in our car in a desperate attempt to sell us food/fruit/soda/tissues/flashlights/etc.  Luckily we made it out without running anyone over.

The first few hours of the car ride were utterly boring and just as sweaty. I tried to sleep but I got stuck with the hump seat. Now being the baby of the family I’m used to getting the hump seat since I was the smallest and didn’t get a choice. We also had enough luggage/bags in the back that these created a convenient head rest for us. I suppose this should have been alarming to me since I have seen that episode of Mythbusters where they prove heavy objects in the back of vehicles will smash your head like a watermelon from a tall building should you get in an accident. So we got into Kaolack on a stretch of road that was starting to get yucky with lots of huge potholes which could swallow an 18 wheeler who we often aimed at as we swerved all around the road to avoid said holes. Having the middle seat probably took about 20 years off my life just from the fear and stress. We stopped in Kaolack for water and food and a bathroom if you could find one. Everyone abandoned the car as if the locks on these cars actually work or that no one would touch our stuff. Yes because that is a safe assumption. So as Alice, Ioana, and I stood guard I watched the traffic. Watching traffic in Kaolack makes me wonder how anyone lives past the age of 30 and makes you suspicious whether poverty is really what brings down the life expectancy in poor countries. We get on our way out of Kaolack and here comes the worst of the roads. Typically, we were driving on the sand besides the road rather than on the road itself. Now, we knew these roads were bad because we had recently had our trip to Toubacouta with the group however our bus was in great condition. Our sept-place was not. We get to Toubacouta which is pretty close to the border so we are excited we are close.

Nope! God decided to smite us and all of a sudden we lose a tire. With a load pop, some thrashing around under the car, some fishtailing action, and the lovely music of metal grinding on pavement we came to a sad stop. Now when I say we lost a tire I don’t mean we simply got a flat tire. At first, before the fishtailing was that a large piece of the car had fallen out of the bottom. Not a shocking thought. Then with the pop sound and fishtailing I thought we might have just gotten  violent flat tire. Nope! None of that normal stuff that happens to real people. When I say lost a tire what I really mean  is  when you take a tire off a car and look at where the brake rotors are/should be that’s all we had left. Of course, Ioana had been sitting over that wheel so as the shock of it all settled down I realize had we not had a great driver we could have been in a serious accident. It’s not hard to flip a car when the edge of the road is about 4 inches about the sand. The wheel flew off to some unknown destination in the forest and the circular piece of metal that had been holding it on was melted flat with the road. So the three men got out to look at the damage all manly like as us girls haul out to look at it too. Alice started taking pictures a bit awkwardly and I say awkwardly because the men were still standing there and I felt she was hurting their ego by taking pictures. I took one as evidence for my Dad. He’s a car man so he knows what he’s looking at but I took it as they were searching for the tire. The Senegalese women couldn’t be bothered to look. I guess they’re used to it anyways. We also saw an accident on the way to our accident. We happened upon an accident where a sept-place had hit a motorcycle driver. We arrived just in time to see the unfortunate motorcyclist get hauled into a car. Not a happy scene. He wasn’t bloody on the outside but that doesn’t mean he’s not bleeding on the inside. In the end, a kid in a normal car took us three girls and the woman with her daughter to the border safe and sound and I learned that sept-place rides are a hot mess.

The first thing to know about the border is that the people here have no concept of personal space or anger management problems. We step out of the car into a hoard of people. “hello pretty lady how are you? Hi nice lady would you like some peanuts? I can give you Dalasi (Gambian currency) for your CFA” (because Gambia speaks some convoluted form of English). No lady I don’t want your peanuts so stop touching me. Don’t touch my bags and take a step back before I lose my shit. I was angry in case you can’t tell from that mini dialogue because they touch you and I know all they want to do is steal my stuff and invade my space so I panic into buying something. The only thing they were going to panic me into was smacking someone. Alice was spending three nights in the little village we had taken a trip to several weeks ago. To do this we had to approach the motorcycle gang while still being swarmed. We found her a ride and Ioana and I continued to the Senegalese border post. The man there complemented me on my French and my lack of an American accent which I know is untrue but it gave me a little ego boost for the day. The Gambian side was a bit more intimidating.

First, they checked our bags at the Gambian border as if they ever get real security risks. Then we went to get our visas. You walk in and the first thing you see is this crappy little detention cell with a few pots. I assume one for food and one for toilet and the third one for who knows what else. We also had the great fortune of seeing one of these detainees in his natural habitat! I stopped snickering about the crappy cell once I realized someone was in it. At the end of the hall, we arrive to a guy sitting in an office looking bored out of his skull. He hit on us some then tried to take a serious interrogation tone bout our reasons for visiting and all that. I don’t know but I’ve never seen an interrogation that comes with a speed dating service. We finally get our visas and ar eon our way paying too much for a taxi yada yada. Then the ferry was a whole new adventure.

Ohh the ferry in Gambia how I loathe thee. The ferry was a long wait first of all. They only had one ferry running that day so it took about 2 hours for it to make the round trip. Ioana and I waited about an hour and a half. We got lost finding the terminal because you have to walk through a shady maze of shacks to get there. As we waited we saw the couple from our sept-place who stayed behind. I was glad to see they made it. So we had a short conversation about our terrifying adventures. I had an earwig on my shirt and had a mini public freakout which was embarrassing. That’s about as eventful as our wait was. Finally, everyone makes a move towards the door. Apparently some people have honed ferry hunting skills and heard if from halfway to Banjul because we all shoved up against the gate in a nice sweaty crowd and waited about another half hour in the hot hot sun. Yay! Meanwhile, old ladies are pummeling me with their damn luggage so they can get in front of me. The gates finally let loose like the floods from hell. Ioana starts running so there I am running with my piece of luggage and my backpack on the front of me since I was worried about people opening it. We’re running next to crazy people swinging bags and babies everywhere. So we find seats luckily on the ferry and we wait…again. The ferry is extraordinarily slow and takes about 40 minutes to do less distance or about the same as Lake Champlain. Maybe our ferry does take that long and I just don’t remember but it took forever. Getting off the boat was just as much fun seeing as luggage hits rriiigghht at that soft spot in your knees so you near about fall as you simultaneously get shoved down the staircase. Because that’s not dangerous at all. Of course while all this is happening I get something in my contact that is burning in my eye. As if the dust from the car accident wasn’t bad enough. Ioana and I try calling their family friend who is supposed to pick us up but she is late of course…just like everyone in Senegal. We walk on to the street and stand still. Now this is the worst thing you can do as a white foreigner. You get harassed and swarmed but we didn’t really have a choice.

My eye is literally on fire. So I tell Ioana we’re going to stand where we are. I knew I had wet wipes (thanks Mom!) and my contact solution in my backpack. So I wiped my hands off and ignored the dirty old man hitting on us as I ripped out my contact. Now as most people know this is a slightly gross and disturbing process because it involves touching my eye. Now imagine you didn’t know what I was doing. The look on this man’s face as he watched me remove my contact was priceless. I only WISH I had had my camera. There was a look of sheer disgust and absolute horror which was making me laugh and making it difficult to concentrate. Mind you he never stops trying to get me to marry him despite his sheer disgust; his advances were simply mingled among the oh my what are you doing comments. I think this just tells us how desperate some men really are. I tried to explain but I think to this day it’ll be some sort of horror story he’ll tell his kids about what the crazy white folks do.

So we get harassed as we wait for our ride and I was super grumpy. Finally, they show up. Gatou and her brother drive us to our hotel which was super nice of them because it saved us a bunch because we didn’t have to get ripped off by a taxi. The hotel was down a shady little alley way and now I was worried I had picked a crappy hotel. Behind the large walls awaited a cute little oasis for our Gambian stay! There was a small pool surrounded by huts. Our hut had three rooms: the bathroom, living room, and bedroom. All were very nice. The bathroom had white tile so it looked a little dingy and got dirty quick but it was big and had a functioning shower. YAY! No bucket shower for Sammy! We also got a fridge and had a water heater for tea. I have to say the best addition I could have ever asked for was little Vega, the kitten we arrived to who was sleeping in the chair on our front stoop. So adorable!!!

Ioana and I were super tired but we wanted to meet Fatou’s family soooo we each took our turns in the nice shower and de-sweatified ourselves from our cramped travels. We figured hey free dinner and off we went again sleep deprived but excited. Fatou’s house was WAAAYYY different than any house I’ve seen in Senegal. They had it decorated from floor to ceiling with all sorts of crazy stuff. Nice china, teddy bears, photos, large glass fronted shelves. They were clearly well off. So we ate some dinner and chilled out at the TV with the family. If I remember correctly there were 3 sisters, the brother, and a baby. Of course we also met the mom of the house. Mind you, when I say sisters I’m not sure how they’re all related but anyways…As we’re sitting there I realize Fatou wants to take us out dancing because it’s Saturday night of course! I’m exhausted as is Ioana. Fatou offered me a nap but if I took a nap I was never waking up so Ioana naps while I’m with the fam. We pick up a friend of Fatou’s and bring her back. Time ticks away…now I know people go out late here and I figured ohh midnight or something. Then who knows how late we’d be out but I never get to go out guilt free in Dakar so I sucked it up. So we go to Fatou’s friend’s house as they get dressed and shower and chat. Her friend’s brother and some other folds come in and leave. We eat some eggs. FINALLY! We are ready to go out at the early hour of 12:45am. Ohh dear…so tired! I’m not used to going out on a normal amount of sleep much less on 8 hours of travel and spotty sleep the night before. We walk into the club, Duplex, and I was really surprised. I’m not really sure what American clubs look like because the only one I’ve seen is that shady little one in Burlington that allows folks under 21 every now and then, but I imagine this one is a lot like ours. It’s a huge club with lots of lights and a bar and of course huge flat screens displaying people dancing in the club. Of course the only people being displayed on these screens were the white foreign chicks who were smashed and looking mentally challenged in a club full of Gambian folks. This made me think of two things: Kesha and why white girls get a bad name.

The dancing was fun but I was too tired to enjoy it for too long. It was nice to hear some American music and just have fun. On our way back to the hotel we saw an SUV almost flip and a taxi accident where they hit each other head on. Now this should have been a warning to the utterly shitty driving Ioana and I would soon encounter in Gambia. SLLEEEEPPPP! Finally we slept and even if our bed hadn’t been comfy I would have said it was. It was a good night

SUNDAY – So Ioana and I wake up slow on Sunday tired from our night out. We scrounge around for breakfast and showered. We wanted to pay the hotel so we found Omar, the Gambian man who works for Alan (the owner). He introduced us to Alan the old British (?) man who runs the place. He talked to us forever! Finally we get it out of him that he wants us to pay in Dalasi instead of CFA. Cool. Something else we have to do. But later. Instead, we ask Omar how to get to the Crocodile pond and to our surprise he walks us there! Omar was our awesome tour guide for the day although we did have to pay to get him to the forest. Anyways, the crocodile pool was cool and they had a well laid out museum of sorts with agricultural, war, musical artifacts. We saw the crocodiles but we didn’t get to touch one because they were all in the water. We also get to see this massive silk tree that was a great picture spot. The pool was nice but a bit overpriced if you ask me.

After the pool, it wasn’t quite lunch time yet and Ioana wanted to see the forest because we were going into Banjul tomorrow. So we made the brilliant plan to go to the Bijilo Forest without lunch. Bad planning. First off, it takes a while to get there because Omar takes us on the public transportation which is just vans outfitted with extra seats and no interior. This is fine because it’s cheaper but there’s not really a direct route to the forest. We finally get there and we pay to get into the forest (paying for Omar too) when this scraggly dirty looking man walks up to us. Now at this point Ioana and I had been scammed that morning by a guy in Bakau (where we were staying). He pulled the don’t-you-recognize-me-from-the-hotel skit and brought us to his house and tried to pry money out of us by shamelessly using his kids saying they were orphans. Bullshit and mildly scary. So this guy at the forest comes up to us and starts this big speech about how we have to pay for a tour guide and that you can’t go into the forest without a tour guide and that it’s 300 dalasi. Excuse me? 300 dalasi? Do we look mentally challenged to you? I was furious. After telling him that it’s bullcrap and we don’t have to pay twice that’s not how it works I was ready to physically injure this man. I was hot and hungry and cranky. I literally had to turn my back on him for fear of screaming in his face and causing a big scene. Omar was discussing/fighting with another dude about this and finally after almost leaving they let us in with 100 Dalasi I guess. We start our walk and Omar has the 100 Dalasi in his hand when the tour guide turns around and tells us “ohh yesterday this lovely bird watching couple loved my tour so much they gave me money at the end” yada yada yada. Again a crock of shit but Omar gave him our hundred. Lame. The forest on the other hand was really cool. We got to see monkeys, hyenas, an antelope, the Senegalese parrots, baboons (I know they’re monkeys but they’re different there were some free range monkeys in the forest). The trees were also pretty cool. My favorite was the strangler fig. I can’t explain how it looks to you so you’ll just have to go on facebook once I put photos up. Oh I forgot to mention the guy at the front said this walk would take two hours. I said unacceptable I haven’t eaten lunch yet. We were aiming for like an hour tops. Also why we shouldn’t have to pay 300 extra. The forest was cool but I’ll let my pictures explain.

We finally get out of the bug infested forest ( I had forgotten to wear bug spray which was also a bad life choice) to the road only to wait forever for one of the weird little vans to take us home because Oh yea it’s Sunday and everyone is heading our direction. Everything that drove by was full. I was super ripped at this point because now it was like 4pm. All day without food makes for a grumpy Sammy. Fortunately, we made it back eventually. A slow process at best. And Ioana and I walk down our road to an open bar/restaurant place. Instantly, the man sitting at the bar is trying to seat us and hit on us and marry us. Go away. He doesn’t even work there. Such a tool. Of course while we are sitting there three other foreigners (possibly Australian) come to this place and are absolutely vulgar. They are just the definition of offensive. First off, the youngest who looks about 16 is leading a dog around and at one point says “come here bitch”. Now this wouldn’t have bugged me had all the men not laughed but no they all laughed and probably do the same shit to women. I agree with Ioana, just because the men in Gambia act like vulgar scum doesn’t mean as foreigners it is acceptable to do the same. Ioana and I were less than impressed. The food however was FAAANNNTTTAASTTIICC. So good! Kinda pricey as I found out later. But it was a good dinner. End of day 2.