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Welcome to a blog post of what has definitely been the craziest weekend yet of my entire life. I've diced with death, been momentarily star struck, been closer to a police baton than I'd have liked, and just about managed to dodge a riot. However I'll backtrack a bit to before this weekend…
Seeing as the schools are yet to start, Katie and I have been getting involved in some other areas. After meeting Connie, the local Peace Corps worker in Joal, and her husband Klaus, they generously invited us to join them and two other Peace Corps workers from neighbouring Mbour and Thies , and a few guys from the local marine protection society on a weekend of 'turtle management' and camping on the beach. We of course jumped at the offer, and had a fantastic time eating delicious barbecued fish and getting to know the Americans and Senegalese alike. However that particular weekend it seemed that the turtles were in no mood to be managed, and all we found was a dead turtle some way along the beach. I'll think we'll stick to teaching… We've also spent some time helping out at the local pre-school where Marieme goes, which has been pretty good fun.
On Thursday, after a painfully early start, Katie and I travelled to Mbour with Aicha to collect our long awaited Tabaski boubous for the upcoming festival (26th Oct). We were manoeuvred into them in front of most of the market goers by the head seamstress, who declared her work stunning before wrestling us back out of them and charging us the most money I've spent here in Senegal so far in one go. There's not a huge amount to say about mine except that it couldn't be more orange if it tried, and to the seamstress' credit, fits pretty darn great.
We then took a sept-place on to Dakar. Katie had been linked to a Dakar Rotary Club courtesy of the Rotary Club of Sutton-in-Ashfield, and we enjoyed an evening at one of Dakar's hotels, basking in the gloriously classical, clear French which greeted us, and knocking back the complimentary peanuts. We're planning to return later in the year to keep them up to date with our work.
On Friday Katie and decided to visit l'Ile de Goree, a beautiful island famous for its art, 20 minutes off mainland Dakar. Little did we know that le President de la Republique, Francois Hollande, had followed our lead and planned his visit on the same day, along with Senegalese President Macky Sall. On account of their visit, the museums and buildings we hoped to visit were all closed. However we settled ourselves on the beach to enjoy a beautifully British picnic, and watched various security patrols and tours around Goree before joining the local population (clad in 'Bienvenue Monsieur le President' t-shirts) in a celebration of welcome involving crazy mbalax drumming, energetic dancing, singing, swaying, the lot! The Presidents arrived and were ushered past the crowd, at which time we found out that there would be no ferries leaving until they had departed. Hence we were somewhat penned in and were forced to wait until they had completed the visit. However our patience was rewarded; upon their departure the Presidents moved along the barrier shaking enthusiastic hands - Hollande got closer and closer until he was right in front of us, and shook both our hands before asking if we were on holiday (!!), but in the media scrum he was moved along before we could reply. Thus Katie and I were in semi-shock for the next few minutes, before realising that we needed to get moving in order to get onto the last ferry leaving the island that night, along with the media circus and all their equipment, and a large number of dakarois. We joined a group of other toubabs all shooting panicked glances at each other, and thankfully dodged the police batons and shoving to make it onto the ferry.
The weekend, however, did not stop there. Thanks to the boys and their host in Kaolack, Master P, we'd managed to get tickets to the Senegal vs. Cote d'Ivoire football match, two of the biggest teams in Africa, in a qualifier for the African Cup of Nations. Warrived at the stadium a mere 5 hours before the start of the match, and took our places on the concrete steps (no seats), which were already more than half full. We passed the next few hours catching up and trying out every Senegalese snack from passing sellers (no beer at this football match but plenty of cold water, ice-cream, ataya - Senegalese tea, sweets, pastries and some good ole ham sarnies we brought with us). The mood in the stadium rose to a feverish pitch (accompanied by incessant drumming, percussion, dancing, shouting, and cursing at the Cote d'Ivoire supporters) until the players eventually emerged onto the pitch (the Ivorian team under protection of police riot shields as they came out the tunnel) and the game began. The entire crowd remained standing for the entire first half, living through every moment of the game; booing at every move by an Ivorian and going crazy every time a Senegalese player touched the ball. Despite a few close near-misses by the Senegalese team, half time was reached without any goals being scored. The second half began, and after a goal from the Ivorian side the mood in the Senegalese camp darkened considerably. By the time a questionable penalty was given, allowing Cote d'Ivoire a second goal, the frustration in the stadium erupted in the throwing of water bags and litter at the pitch, which quickly moved onto harder missiles, including the wooden and concrete steps of the stadium, and lighting of fires among the stands. The game was halted, and aided by neighbours we climbed up to the top of the stadium where we would be safest from the trouble. The fires got bigger and the stadium began to shake; we made our way around to the nearest exit and took refuge in a small building about 50m from the stadium. We passed half an hour there witnessing the burning of tyres and rubbish outside the stadium and (in case we hadn't all had enough excitement for the day) firing of tear gas by police, upon which we were unfortunately on the receiving end. Once the police had assembled near us we walked out and further away from the stadium, trying to find somewhere from where we could get a taxi back to the school where we were staying. This was unfortunately not any safer than were we were previously; there were a number of pickpockets trying to get close to us and one of the girls almost got her bag snatched, however we eventually emerged into the middle of a riot on a side street and piled into a taxi which thankfully came careering around the corner, taking us swiftly out of trouble (and charging a ridiculous fare), with all limbs and valuables intact.
Seeking some peaceful respite after a crazy few days, we went to the Cathedral in Dakar on Sunday morning and heard the fantastic choir accompanied by Senegalese drumming. We then made our way to Joal via sept-place and were swiftly taken off by Aicha to an aspect of a naming ceremony in Caritas. It was another first to witness the routine of giving/buying gifts, watching the women let loose on the dance floor (the sandy road) and be surrounded by such dazzling boubous.
Phew, it's been a big few days! The start of lessons at the middle school appears imminent, so gearing up for that, and enjoying being back in peaceful Joal.
Amee
- comments
Becca Cash This all sounds amazing Amee! I am so jealous, but hope you have an amazing time and catch up with you soon! Becca xx
Lucy Blimeyyyy Ames! I held my breath reading that. Thank God you're OK! Well done for getting out alive, I can imagine exactly how you'd have been in this situation! PLEASE stay safe, and keep enjoying the crazy experiences. Good luck with the teaching - you will be fantastic I know. Loads of love and hugs xxxxx
Karen WOW! Exciting of what! well, it all adds to the Spice of life eh! what fun... any room in your back pack for me ??? Love to you, stay safe and happy, Karen
Amee Hi Becca, hope you're well, thanks for reading dude! Karen, thanks so much for your lovely comments, of COURSE there's room...when you coming out?! love to all the CWs xxxx