Sunday was Goree Day

Me at Ile de Goree

Sunday morning. Rise and shine. Oh wait, nope, there was no shining, only rain. I was so mad, because I was supposed to go to L’ile Goree by 9 on Sunday. We decided to wait out the rain, and luckily enough it stopped by 11. Coumba and I left the house in order to go to take the Chaloupe (this boat) to Goree.

As a foreigner I had to pay more than 3 times than Coumba – and as if it wouldn’t be hard enough to fake that I’m Senegalese even Coumba got questioned if she was really Senegalese lol.

We made our way onto the boat and I felt all excited leaving Dakar behind – I really haven’t left Dakar this whole time, unfortunately.

Bye bye Dakar!

When we finally arrived (of course, the boat didn’t leave on time as expected), I was on an island – it’s been  a while since that you know, altho Jamaica is much bigger. We started to simply walk around and Coumba was pointing out places to me and we were taking in the sights but also taking pictures.

However, there was music playing that drew our attention, and we ended up following a crowd of people. There were men playing the tam-tam, men playing trumpets and young girls and children dancing at the front of the entire parade (I guess, I can call it that). We found out later it was a Fete to celebrate 140 years of La Mairie of Goree. Great timing!

Part of the parade..

It started to drizzle but we still made our way to the beach – one a little less crowded than the ones we saw at first. Still fully clothed, Coumba and I still had a great time ‘dipping our feet’.

We then went to the Maison des Esclaves when it opened. This was where many slaves were kept before they were shipped off to the New World from Senegal. When the curator came outside to talk about what happened, I was completely lost. A bit disappointed in my French, I went upstairs where I learnt much more from reading the information posts than the curator’s speech.

Being there, was all exciting for me – I used to love Caribbean History and slavery was a big chunk of the syllabus, and there I was in a piece of history. But with that fascination, came sadness as when reflecting on the horrors of the past, it seems unbelievable sometimes what seemed perfectly acceptable at that period both for white slave traders and black traitors. After the tour, I wrote in a little book that they had to thank them for the opportunity to see the Slave House and headed out to the seaside once more.

By the seaside..

Three seashells richer, we hung out by another beach waiting on one of Coumba’s friends who lives on the island (Sounds cool at first, but she waits on a boat ride to and from home every morning just to go to school –  that could be a tad stressful during school time).

You’d think that we’d just buy some fish at any of the many restaurants by the beach, but no – Me, being perfectly impolite, told Coumba’s friend (within minutes of meeting her) that I was starving and hence came my invitation for lunch lol.

They spread a cloth on the floor and brought out a big steaming platter of cheb u ginaaw – really chicken and rice. They offered me a stool and I felt left out, I insisted that I wanted to sit on the floor like everyone else, so I did.

The food and our eating area :) - plus the stool I turned down lol

I was offered a spoon and told to eat up. There were 7 of us eating from the platter. Two of the girls were eating with their hands – this was actually the first time I was eating with people while they ate with their hands so I felt all cool, altho I was still using my spoon. The food was really good too – I was starving and all, but it was yummy. And even after stuffing myself, when I stopped they all insisted that I eat up – but I could hold no more. But that is relative, because after having some bottled water I did have my mango for dessert quite easily.

AFTER all our ravenous eating

Niggeritis set in and we just chilled at the house waiting on the next scheduled Chaloupe to arrive. When we went to catch the boat, it was (1) late, (2) carrying some Senegalese singer for the day’s celebration – I had no idea who it was, but I just smiled and waved, blending right in.

You’d think that the day at Goree would be enough – but Coumba and I headed off to get icecream before we returned home.

At Nice-cream with what seems like invisible ice-cream

Then it was really time to call it a day – and a good day it was!