From almost the time I stepped off the plane in Dakar, I was bombarded by people trying to sell me things. I got really good at saying "no, thank you" and "I am not interested" in French. I have to admit that it was a kind of relief, when Arnie and I actually wanted to buy something, to actually give in to the constant barrage of requests to "Come look for just a minute," or "you see something you like, I give you good price!" Unfortunately, the relief lasts only a brief moment as now you are in a back and forth battle to get that "good price!"
For those that know me well, know that I don't like shopping even in a nice air conditioned mall where there is plenty of selection, you have brand names, the prices are known up front and sometimes there are even sales that last all day! Well, in Senegal, in Africa, aside from the ritzy malls the Toubabs shop at or the grocery store with really expensive prices, it is nothing like that. The markets are outdoors, with varied selection, mainly handcrafted items or items that they got from donation bags, and the price you get depends solely on your ability to haggle.
My first taste of this happened while I was with Arnie. We went to the Carmel Market. I had seen these cute little wooden hippos back in Sali but the overpriced shop outside the hotel wanted $60 US Dollars for one little hippo! Arnie knew he could get a better deal at this market and he did. He got four little ones for $20 total! I thought that was pretty good. Arnie said that he could've gotten them cheaper. It is all about what you are willing to pay and what they are willing to sell them for. Pretty simple concept, hard application.
Arnie's boss's wife, Veronique, is really good at this, though, and she took me and a couple other gals out shopping my last day in Senegal. Besides being fluent in French, she has a killer instinct and knows exactly how to get a great deal. I admired her technique which basically consisted of asking how much something was and upon hearing their offer would "tsk" and turn around and walk almost completely away before the seller, frantically, calls her back with a better price. If this still doesn't impress her, she will again just "tsk" and continue to walk away. Amazing.
Me, well, not so hot. I was lucky when purchasing the three bags, the little purple basket and the big pink basket. Veronique was there with me to run interference. The rest of my purchases were made in a series of major trials and errors.
While my friends were occupied haggling for a painting a couple stalls down, I was being badgered by a very over zealous, fast talking man who sold wood figurines. At first I wasn't very interested in anything because I loved my little hippos and didn't care for any more little wooden things. The guy kept lowering his prices however until I thought, heck, why not. Well, I'll tell you! I told him I wanted the cat for the last price he said and thought maybe he would be satisfied and let me go. Well, I got the cat for $4, the price I asked for but as I waited for them to get me a bag, he went for a two-fer deal. By this time, I was tired and didn't do the math. I ended up buying a little kneeling lady for another $6. I think the guy knew that he had suckered me because he added this little puny elephant as a gift...yeah, yeah, whatever.
I think this was the signal all of the rest of the vendors in the vicinity were looking for, (the signal that, yep, we've got a stupid one!), because I was swept away from that stall to the neighboring one by another guy claiming he was the first one's brother....yeah right. He began yabbering at me something about getting two for 1000CFA (about $2) and something about being broke and giving me a good deal. By this time, I had had enough of little wooden crap and wanted out! My friends obliged and came to my rescue!
Problem was I hadn't learned my lesson. Not by a long shot. In the last row of stalls, a wood statue of a horse caught my eye and round 2 of Scam the Toubab began. First off, I actually wanted the horse (problem number 1) and second, as I was not anxious to be detained as long as the first time, I tried to negotiate quickly (problem number 2). I tried to negotiate like Arnie had taught me by starting lower that the other guy's initial offer but I didn't take the time to do the math and before I knew it, we had settled on a price of $40 USD and I was receiving another little elephant for being such a good sport. Yes, thanks, thanks a lot. I feel so much better now.
The bottom line ,though, is that I am happy with my treasures and for the priceless schooling in the art of negotiation that I received, I got a "good price."
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Trip To Senegal- Day 10 St. Louis
We left Lompoul the next morning, not requiring a guide to return to the village as all of the paths would take us back. We did end up paying a little more than we would have like for putting the air back in our tires but with that done, we turned our sights to the coastal island of St. Louis.
St. Louis lies between the mainland of Senegal and a narrow peninsula that connects to the country of Mauritania just north of the fishing village of N'gar. The bridge to St. Louis is being refurbished and by this, I mean, the old bridge is being torn down and sent to France as scrap and a new bridge is being built right next to where the old one was. The original bridge was designed by Gustave Eiffel, the same guy that design the Eiffel Tower (hence the name).
St. Louis lies between the mainland of Senegal and a narrow peninsula that connects to the country of Mauritania just north of the fishing village of N'gar. The bridge to St. Louis is being refurbished and by this, I mean, the old bridge is being torn down and sent to France as scrap and a new bridge is being built right next to where the old one was. The original bridge was designed by Gustave Eiffel, the same guy that design the Eiffel Tower (hence the name).
The bridge to St. Louis, designed by Gustav Eiffel
The Sindone Hotel is a quaint hotel near the south end of the the island. Arnie had stayed there once before and knew that they had bed nets. I knew I was going to like the place already.
We decided to have lunch at the hotel's restaurant since we couldn't check in right away. We chose to sit outside near the water. Except for the occasional fly to shew away, it was a wonderful place to eat. The food at the restaurant was delicious! I had the t-bone steak with french fries and a salad. It was brought to me, not on a plate, but on a cutting board! At dinner, I had the chicken dish (the only chicken dish on the menu). The chicken was in a coconut-ginger sauce! Amazing!
The Sindone Hotel is a quaint hotel near the south end of the the island. Arnie had stayed there once before and knew that they had bed nets. I knew I was going to like the place already.After lunch and checking in, we headed over to the African equivalent of a tourist center and paid for a guide that took us on a carriage ride around the island and over the bridge to the fishing village as well. I was very grateful that Arnie got a guide that spoke English this time. It was so great to be able to understand more than a few words per sentence and to ask my own questions and not just sit there nodding and smiling like a fool and laughing a fraction of a second after Arnie did at whatever joke was said.
Our guide was from the fishing village, which was a short bridge ride toward the ocean from the island of St. Louis. I was amazed at the difference of atmosphere between the two places. St. Louis is a very peaceful, place with old colonial buildings in various stages of refurbishing. There wasn't a whole lot of traffic, cars or otherwise to deal with and I noticed that there seemed to be less street vendors begging for stuff. There were many shops and restaurants and there were even places where you could look in and see clothes or furniture being made.
The fishing village was a mess. With approximately 30,000 people within a 1-2km sq area, it was swarming with people so dense it was hard for the carriage to make forward progress at times. Our guide said that the number of people is only a guess because it is forbidden in their culture to count people. The fishermen have up to two or more wives and the wife with the most children gets the inheritance so there are children everywhere in this village. According to our guide, the fishermen are relatively wealthy but they don't spend their wealth to improve the infrastructure of their homes, making them more sanitary or comfortable. They buy modern technology like flat screen tvs for each of their wives and cell phones and designer clothes for their children. They still cook on the streets on charcoal fires and defecate in the ocean and rivers. Some things are just incomprehensible.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Trip to Senegal- Day 9 Lompoul
Our next adventure took us to the sand dunes of Lompoul. There we were treated like sheiks, living in elaborate tents, eating in open air pavilions, and even having a camel ride.
To get there was an adventure as well. Once reaching the village of Lompoul, we had to contact the Lodge, where we staying, and request a guide to get us to the site. We were told to wait in a certain location in the town and while there were completely mobbed by little children climbing all over the car and trying the door handles. I was glad the doors were locked. After about five intense minutes, our guide arrived and we headed on our way down sandy paths that would fork again and again, making me very glad indeed that we held out for our guide.
Arnie really enjoys driving the 4x4 Land Cruiser and it definitely performed well in the bumpy, sandy paths to the Lompoul Lodge. The only glitch came when we were just in sight of the white tents at the top of the hill and the sand got quite a bit deeper. I was worried that we were going to have to leave the vehicle there and walk the rest of the way, when the guide jumped out and started to deflate the tires! Not knowing anything about off-roading, I looked at Arnie with concern and asked him if he was concerned at all that this man is taking the air out of our tires? Arnie then explained to me that it would make the tires more like a camel's hoof rather than a horse's hoof. Since I still looked confused, he continued to explain that a camel's hoof is wider and spreads more evenly on the sand rather than a horse's compact hoof which would just go right through. With that, the light bulb finally went on in my head. I also realized that by this guy doing this, he was also guaranteeing someone in the village our business in order to fill our tires back up again. Gotta love Africa.
Once done with our drinks, our camels arrived from the village, just in time for a sunset ride around the dunes. This was my first time on a camel and Arnie's first time on a camel using a saddle. He had ridden a camel in Qatar during his deployment and he described a harrowing experience of just jumping on behind the hump and just hanging on. I was grateful for the saddles although they are not very comfortable and they actually put you further from the camel's back than a horse's saddle does. This is very disconcerting since a camel is already taller than a horse to begin with, you end up even higher off the ground. I never did get used to the lumbering gate of the camel and was continually trying to keep the front piece of the saddle that was between my legs from gouging painfully into them, all the while trying to take pictures of the scenery and Arnie. I was very grateful for a fast shutter speed and a camera strap. After a while, I just gave up trying to protect my legs and just resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be really sore for several days.
Our guide stopped several times and offered to take our picture. Although Arnie had his little point-and-shoot camera, the camel guy never went for his camera. I think he really liked my big fancy camera and would go at taking pictures of us with all the zeal of a Hollywood model photographer! Most of the pictures he took were not very good, sad to say, but he had a lot of fun taking them :) Thank goodness for digital cameras!!
To get there was an adventure as well. Once reaching the village of Lompoul, we had to contact the Lodge, where we staying, and request a guide to get us to the site. We were told to wait in a certain location in the town and while there were completely mobbed by little children climbing all over the car and trying the door handles. I was glad the doors were locked. After about five intense minutes, our guide arrived and we headed on our way down sandy paths that would fork again and again, making me very glad indeed that we held out for our guide.
Arnie really enjoys driving the 4x4 Land Cruiser and it definitely performed well in the bumpy, sandy paths to the Lompoul Lodge. The only glitch came when we were just in sight of the white tents at the top of the hill and the sand got quite a bit deeper. I was worried that we were going to have to leave the vehicle there and walk the rest of the way, when the guide jumped out and started to deflate the tires! Not knowing anything about off-roading, I looked at Arnie with concern and asked him if he was concerned at all that this man is taking the air out of our tires? Arnie then explained to me that it would make the tires more like a camel's hoof rather than a horse's hoof. Since I still looked confused, he continued to explain that a camel's hoof is wider and spreads more evenly on the sand rather than a horse's compact hoof which would just go right through. With that, the light bulb finally went on in my head. I also realized that by this guy doing this, he was also guaranteeing someone in the village our business in order to fill our tires back up again. Gotta love Africa.
After checking out the place, we took a break in the dining pavilion. The owner of the Lodge gave us complimentary drinks, something I've never had, jus de Baobab. Yep, that's right Baobab juice. I think it is the juice from the pod off the baobab tree but either way it is a milky white substance that reminded me, at least in color and texture, to coconut milk. Not in taste, however. It wasn't too bad and I finished my glass but I just couldn't get over the idea that I was drinking a tree and I kept feeling like I was drinking bark.
Me drinking le jus de baobab
Once done with our drinks, our camels arrived from the village, just in time for a sunset ride around the dunes. This was my first time on a camel and Arnie's first time on a camel using a saddle. He had ridden a camel in Qatar during his deployment and he described a harrowing experience of just jumping on behind the hump and just hanging on. I was grateful for the saddles although they are not very comfortable and they actually put you further from the camel's back than a horse's saddle does. This is very disconcerting since a camel is already taller than a horse to begin with, you end up even higher off the ground. I never did get used to the lumbering gate of the camel and was continually trying to keep the front piece of the saddle that was between my legs from gouging painfully into them, all the while trying to take pictures of the scenery and Arnie. I was very grateful for a fast shutter speed and a camera strap. After a while, I just gave up trying to protect my legs and just resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be really sore for several days.
Our guide stopped several times and offered to take our picture. Although Arnie had his little point-and-shoot camera, the camel guy never went for his camera. I think he really liked my big fancy camera and would go at taking pictures of us with all the zeal of a Hollywood model photographer! Most of the pictures he took were not very good, sad to say, but he had a lot of fun taking them :) Thank goodness for digital cameras!!
Arnie and I up on camels about to head out on dunes of Lompoul
Our camel guide pulling my camel up a steep dune.
Our camel guide pulling my camel up a steep dune.
The one thing that I have to say about this adventure was that I have a new appreciation for bed nets!! Perhaps the mosquitos are just now coming back in season so the owners weren't aware or something. At any rate, our tent didn't have a bed net. We were putting bug spray on all night and had to sleep with the covers over our heads all night. It is no fun at all.
Aside from that however, I loved Lompoul. It was like living out of a Laurence of Arabia movie! It was absolutely fabulous!
Aside from that however, I loved Lompoul. It was like living out of a Laurence of Arabia movie! It was absolutely fabulous!
Trip to Senegal- Day 6-8 Cooking advendures pt 2
With the mystery of the oven solved, I was sure that making cinnamon rolls was going to go a lot smoother than my dinner party had. Yep, wrong again.
This time the trouble came in the preparation stage. First of all, Arnie, being by himself means he doesn't own a whole lot of baking paraphernalia. Having made bread without a mixer before, I wasn't too daunted by this and I pressed forward.
I immediately came upon another inconvenience. Getting warm water. Usually I would get it from the tap. Here you can't do that and since Arnie doesn't have a microwave either, I ended up heating up filtered water on the stove. This, unfortunately, made it too hot and I had to temper it with room temp filtered water but I was still a little worried it was too hot. I was happy to see the yeast growing and was about to proceed with my next step when I realized that to get melted butter, I would have to melt that, also, on the stove.
As I am worrying about the heat killing my yeast, I then turn to my sugar and flour, which Arnie, in order to keep fresh here in the African heat and humidity, has kept in the freezer! So, I place my bets that the ingredients will balance themselves out and I make the dough and set it to rise.
By this time, Leone has come in to make her lunch and has taken interest in what I am doing. She asks me if I made the dough myself and what a cinnamon roll was. I showed her a picture and she was really excited to get the recipe.
It was really nice to have her in the kitchen with me. In fact she taught me better ways to use the stove and the oven. By her example, I learned that you didn't need to light the stove pilots at all but just take a match to the burner themselves when the knob is in the "Lite" position! This way, you are able to use the stove AND the oven at the same time!!! Also, she showed me how to light the oven pilot by opening the drawer under the oven instead of dismantling the oven!
I think she found me very entertaining to watch because it was as she was observing me that I realized that Arnie didn't have a rolling pin. At first I tried making due with a Nalgene water bottle while Arnie was scrambling in his storage for a better alternative. He ended up coming back with his baseball bat! It turned out to be a lot better than the bottle (after I had scrubbed it really well that is.)
With the rolls in the pans rising, I set about making the frosting. It was then that I realized that I had the challenge of making frosting with real butter completely by hand. Luckily, I had left the butter out so that it was room temperature or I'd be a lot worse off but it was still a difficult process. I ended up having to scrub my hands really well and just going in with both hands. This helped warm up the butter and combine it with the powdered sugar. As it was, I didn't end up putting all the allotted amount of sugar in before it became too difficult and I decided to just add the milk to make it spreadable.
So I am happy to say after all of the trouble I went through, the cinnamon rolls came out beautifully! Phew! I understand, now, why Arnie has been avoiding cooking!
This time the trouble came in the preparation stage. First of all, Arnie, being by himself means he doesn't own a whole lot of baking paraphernalia. Having made bread without a mixer before, I wasn't too daunted by this and I pressed forward.
I immediately came upon another inconvenience. Getting warm water. Usually I would get it from the tap. Here you can't do that and since Arnie doesn't have a microwave either, I ended up heating up filtered water on the stove. This, unfortunately, made it too hot and I had to temper it with room temp filtered water but I was still a little worried it was too hot. I was happy to see the yeast growing and was about to proceed with my next step when I realized that to get melted butter, I would have to melt that, also, on the stove.
As I am worrying about the heat killing my yeast, I then turn to my sugar and flour, which Arnie, in order to keep fresh here in the African heat and humidity, has kept in the freezer! So, I place my bets that the ingredients will balance themselves out and I make the dough and set it to rise.
By this time, Leone has come in to make her lunch and has taken interest in what I am doing. She asks me if I made the dough myself and what a cinnamon roll was. I showed her a picture and she was really excited to get the recipe.
It was really nice to have her in the kitchen with me. In fact she taught me better ways to use the stove and the oven. By her example, I learned that you didn't need to light the stove pilots at all but just take a match to the burner themselves when the knob is in the "Lite" position! This way, you are able to use the stove AND the oven at the same time!!! Also, she showed me how to light the oven pilot by opening the drawer under the oven instead of dismantling the oven!
I think she found me very entertaining to watch because it was as she was observing me that I realized that Arnie didn't have a rolling pin. At first I tried making due with a Nalgene water bottle while Arnie was scrambling in his storage for a better alternative. He ended up coming back with his baseball bat! It turned out to be a lot better than the bottle (after I had scrubbed it really well that is.)
With the rolls in the pans rising, I set about making the frosting. It was then that I realized that I had the challenge of making frosting with real butter completely by hand. Luckily, I had left the butter out so that it was room temperature or I'd be a lot worse off but it was still a difficult process. I ended up having to scrub my hands really well and just going in with both hands. This helped warm up the butter and combine it with the powdered sugar. As it was, I didn't end up putting all the allotted amount of sugar in before it became too difficult and I decided to just add the milk to make it spreadable.
So I am happy to say after all of the trouble I went through, the cinnamon rolls came out beautifully! Phew! I understand, now, why Arnie has been avoiding cooking!
Trip to Senegal- Day 6-8 Cooking advendures pt 1
We arrived home on Tuesday and I set about my goal of making some of Arnie's favorite meals. I brought some of the ingredients for making enchiladas and chili rellenos from home but I still needed some fresh stuff.
Luckily, Tuesdays is one of the days that Arnie's maid, Leone, is here and she usually goes shopping for him because she can get a lot better prices at the market that a Toubab can. Arnie was so "kind" to let me have the "opportunity" to write out the shopping list for Leone, in French, saying that it was good for me to get that experience. All the while he is chuckling under his breath while I am on my computer trying to find the translation for everything I need to get plus the measurement conversions! Leone is very kind, though, and with her help, I was able to get everything I need to make dinner the next day. It was a very weird not going to store myself though. I was very nervous until she got back and I saw that she had got exactly what I had asked for and got great prices for them too!
We invited Francois for dinner as well as another gal who works for the Peace Corps. I was very excited and wanted everything to go well. Now looking back, I am glad that people who live here are used to things not going as planned!
Well, for dinner, the problem came down to the oven. Arnie's stove and oven are finicky things. When I first got here, Arnie showed me how to use the stove, which was a gas stove. Per his instructions, I had to turn on the gas at the valve above the stove, lift the stove top and light the pilot lights that sat between the two burners on each side and close the lid. Then I could just turn any of the burners on by turning the knob all the way to light. When I was done, I was to shut the valve and let the pilots burn themselves out, thereby leaving no excess gas behind.
To light the oven pilot, I had to read the instructions (mercifully in English) on the inside of the oven door, since Arnie didn't have experience with this. Well, according to the instructions, I had to basically take the oven door off, take the oven racks out and remove the bottom of the oven in order to get to the pilot light. This was such a brutal process that I decided that i was going to just leave it on instead of having to do that every time I wanted to use the oven.
Well, everything went according to plan. I got things in the oven on time, the guests got there on time, Arnie had some great music playing, everything was great! When the buzzer for the dinner went off, I went to the oven and realized that the oven pilot light wasn't on and my food hadn't been cooked! What I didn't know and that nobody, not even the instructions, told me was that you couldn't use the oven and the stove at the same time! So I rushed and lit the oven pilot and my guests ended up waiting another 30 minutes for their food. Like I said, I am glad that people here in Africa are used to this sort of thing.
The food end up great anyway and armed with my hard earned knowledge, I felt confident that I was ready to tackle my next culinary challenge in Africa the next day: cinnamon rolls!
Luckily, Tuesdays is one of the days that Arnie's maid, Leone, is here and she usually goes shopping for him because she can get a lot better prices at the market that a Toubab can. Arnie was so "kind" to let me have the "opportunity" to write out the shopping list for Leone, in French, saying that it was good for me to get that experience. All the while he is chuckling under his breath while I am on my computer trying to find the translation for everything I need to get plus the measurement conversions! Leone is very kind, though, and with her help, I was able to get everything I need to make dinner the next day. It was a very weird not going to store myself though. I was very nervous until she got back and I saw that she had got exactly what I had asked for and got great prices for them too!
We invited Francois for dinner as well as another gal who works for the Peace Corps. I was very excited and wanted everything to go well. Now looking back, I am glad that people who live here are used to things not going as planned!
Well, for dinner, the problem came down to the oven. Arnie's stove and oven are finicky things. When I first got here, Arnie showed me how to use the stove, which was a gas stove. Per his instructions, I had to turn on the gas at the valve above the stove, lift the stove top and light the pilot lights that sat between the two burners on each side and close the lid. Then I could just turn any of the burners on by turning the knob all the way to light. When I was done, I was to shut the valve and let the pilots burn themselves out, thereby leaving no excess gas behind.
To light the oven pilot, I had to read the instructions (mercifully in English) on the inside of the oven door, since Arnie didn't have experience with this. Well, according to the instructions, I had to basically take the oven door off, take the oven racks out and remove the bottom of the oven in order to get to the pilot light. This was such a brutal process that I decided that i was going to just leave it on instead of having to do that every time I wanted to use the oven.
Well, everything went according to plan. I got things in the oven on time, the guests got there on time, Arnie had some great music playing, everything was great! When the buzzer for the dinner went off, I went to the oven and realized that the oven pilot light wasn't on and my food hadn't been cooked! What I didn't know and that nobody, not even the instructions, told me was that you couldn't use the oven and the stove at the same time! So I rushed and lit the oven pilot and my guests ended up waiting another 30 minutes for their food. Like I said, I am glad that people here in Africa are used to this sort of thing.
The food end up great anyway and armed with my hard earned knowledge, I felt confident that I was ready to tackle my next culinary challenge in Africa the next day: cinnamon rolls!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Trip to Senegal- Day 5 Sali & Bandia Animal Preserve
When we left Joal-Fadioth, it was just beginning to get dark which wasn't a good thing. Driving in Africa is a dangerous proposition to begin with, but at night, it is borderline suicidal! I didn't unclench my grip on the sides of my seat, however, until we had reached our destination, Sali.
Sali is as close to a resort/beach town as I've seen in Senegal. It is lined with tourist friendly shops and nice looking hotels and resorts. When Arnie was trying to make the reservations to come, all of the recommended places were booked. We had finally found a place called The Savana that was on the water and had a price where meals were included.
Arnie was excited to show me what it was like to live the life of a "rich" (comparatively) person and since we were arriving later in the evening, I was looking forward to getting to rest in a nice hotel room and have some good food waiting.
However, it was at the Savana that I learned the difference between "nice" and "African nice." The room was a total let-down. There weren't fitted sheets on the bed. Just flat sheets that didn't even cover the bed completely, and no bed net. We had to put a ton of mosquito repellent on to keep from being eaten alive. The tv only had five channels that turned out to only carry the news, in French, of course. The a/c unit barely worked and only shot the air down to the ground. The food was terrible. Rubbery, practically raw steaks for dinner with a Styrofoam-ish mousse cake dessert the first night. Greasy eggs and fly infested fruit for breakfast the next morning for breakfast. Dinner the second night tasted good but caused Arnie to be sick to his stomach for the rest of the night.
Arnie was, to say the least, very disappointed. However, as he has said to me several times while I've been here, "C'est Afrique!" or "It is Africa!" What is extraordinary and alarming is that what to us is a very low class experience and one that, had we been in the states, would have caused us tremendous alarm and caused us to complain quite loudly, I'd imagine, is like paradise to those Africans who live in grass huts and sleep on dirt floors.
We had planned to stay for three nights but ended up leaving a day early. Strangely enough the hotel staff didn't make any comment about it.
The day that we did spend in Sali, we spent going to Bandia Animal Preserve. We paid for entrance to the park and for a guide who hopped into our SUV so that we could drive through the park ourselves in our nice air conditioned vehicle instead of having to get into the back of a safari vehicle on hard benches in the open air.
Our guide wasn't very talkative which was fine by me since she really didn't speak any English and Arnie is not in the habit of translating for me in front of people. I wing it most of the time, drawing on what little I remember from my two years of French in high school way back when. Which basically means that I don't understand most of what is said to me beyond "hi, how are you doing?"
The only carnivores that were to be seen here were the hyenas, which were in an enclosure and are not allowed to mingle with the rest of the animals, and the crocodiles, which live in the pond next to the restaurant and get fed regularly enough to keep them from being interested in the other animals of the park. Our guide did point out, however, that it didn't keep them for occasionally snatching a monkey or two when the mood struck them but that the cooks didn't mind that so much since the monkeys are very pesky.
I think the highlight of our visit to Bandia was seeing the rhinoceros. Ami said that sometimes there are days when they can't find the rhinos. We were lucky that they were right next to the trial we were on and we could get some great photos. She then offered to take a picture of us if we got out. She cautioned us to go slowly and not to make any sudden moves. We got the pictures and got back in without the rhinos moving or caring we were there. It was only when we were uploading the pictures that night that we realized how curious it was that our guide stayed in the car to take the picture! Oh well, everything turned out fine and we have a great picture!
We ended our visit having lunch at the park's restaurant. The food was great and we had a wonderful time watching the monkeys playing in the trees next to us. The best part of lunch was our table! It was an old McDonald's picnic table. I actually haven't seen a McDonald's here in Senegal. I just love how the Africans never waste anything :)
Sali is as close to a resort/beach town as I've seen in Senegal. It is lined with tourist friendly shops and nice looking hotels and resorts. When Arnie was trying to make the reservations to come, all of the recommended places were booked. We had finally found a place called The Savana that was on the water and had a price where meals were included.
Arnie was excited to show me what it was like to live the life of a "rich" (comparatively) person and since we were arriving later in the evening, I was looking forward to getting to rest in a nice hotel room and have some good food waiting.
However, it was at the Savana that I learned the difference between "nice" and "African nice." The room was a total let-down. There weren't fitted sheets on the bed. Just flat sheets that didn't even cover the bed completely, and no bed net. We had to put a ton of mosquito repellent on to keep from being eaten alive. The tv only had five channels that turned out to only carry the news, in French, of course. The a/c unit barely worked and only shot the air down to the ground. The food was terrible. Rubbery, practically raw steaks for dinner with a Styrofoam-ish mousse cake dessert the first night. Greasy eggs and fly infested fruit for breakfast the next morning for breakfast. Dinner the second night tasted good but caused Arnie to be sick to his stomach for the rest of the night.
Arnie was, to say the least, very disappointed. However, as he has said to me several times while I've been here, "C'est Afrique!" or "It is Africa!" What is extraordinary and alarming is that what to us is a very low class experience and one that, had we been in the states, would have caused us tremendous alarm and caused us to complain quite loudly, I'd imagine, is like paradise to those Africans who live in grass huts and sleep on dirt floors.
We had planned to stay for three nights but ended up leaving a day early. Strangely enough the hotel staff didn't make any comment about it.
The day that we did spend in Sali, we spent going to Bandia Animal Preserve. We paid for entrance to the park and for a guide who hopped into our SUV so that we could drive through the park ourselves in our nice air conditioned vehicle instead of having to get into the back of a safari vehicle on hard benches in the open air.
Our guide wasn't very talkative which was fine by me since she really didn't speak any English and Arnie is not in the habit of translating for me in front of people. I wing it most of the time, drawing on what little I remember from my two years of French in high school way back when. Which basically means that I don't understand most of what is said to me beyond "hi, how are you doing?"
Oryx Antelope, I think.
Since the guide kept calling them "Antelope Cheval" in French, I can't be sure.
Three zebra
Although our guide, Ami, wasn't chatty, she did a good job showing us all that Bandia had to offer, which mostly consisted of antelopes and ostriches. We did see some giraffes and zebras that was great fun. Arnie and I were able take a lot of pictures so I can show my girlies when I get home. I have some budding artists that I imagine would just love it!Since the guide kept calling them "Antelope Cheval" in French, I can't be sure.
Three zebra
The only carnivores that were to be seen here were the hyenas, which were in an enclosure and are not allowed to mingle with the rest of the animals, and the crocodiles, which live in the pond next to the restaurant and get fed regularly enough to keep them from being interested in the other animals of the park. Our guide did point out, however, that it didn't keep them for occasionally snatching a monkey or two when the mood struck them but that the cooks didn't mind that so much since the monkeys are very pesky.
I think the highlight of our visit to Bandia was seeing the rhinoceros. Ami said that sometimes there are days when they can't find the rhinos. We were lucky that they were right next to the trial we were on and we could get some great photos. She then offered to take a picture of us if we got out. She cautioned us to go slowly and not to make any sudden moves. We got the pictures and got back in without the rhinos moving or caring we were there. It was only when we were uploading the pictures that night that we realized how curious it was that our guide stayed in the car to take the picture! Oh well, everything turned out fine and we have a great picture!
We ended our visit having lunch at the park's restaurant. The food was great and we had a wonderful time watching the monkeys playing in the trees next to us. The best part of lunch was our table! It was an old McDonald's picnic table. I actually haven't seen a McDonald's here in Senegal. I just love how the Africans never waste anything :)
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Trip to Senegal- Day 4 Joal-Fadioth
For Easter, we drove down to the town of Joal-Fadioth to the house of Arnie's friend Francois. His family is Catholic as is the majority of Jaol-Fadioth and had invited us to have Easter dinner with his entire family. We had arrived late to eat with the family due to a late start and traffic. They were nice to have saved us some wonderful food and we enjoyed talking to Francois's father a little before eating.
After dinner, we walked over to a museum in honor of Senghor, the first president of Senegal, who was born in Joal. Francois's friend gave us a private tour and told us about this fascinating man who is said to be to Africa what George Washington was for America.
The highlight of the day was the walk to the island of Fadioth. The foundation of the island is made entirely of shells and the only access to the island is by the foot bridge or by pirogue (rickety wooden boats.) There was a very festive feeling on the island and it was wonderful to be there with Francois, who stopped every now and then to greet friends and neighbors. This was one of the only times that we didn't fear being harrassed by local salesmen or conned by anyone trying to earn a couple extra CFA by insisting we needed to pay for parking or anything.
The citizens of Joal-Fadioth are proud of their religious tolerance. Thanks to Senghor 's family, who had converted to Christianity, Christians and Muslims live in harmony here. In the picture below, you can just barely make out the Catholic church on the left and the mosque on the right of the bridge.
After dinner, we walked over to a museum in honor of Senghor, the first president of Senegal, who was born in Joal. Francois's friend gave us a private tour and told us about this fascinating man who is said to be to Africa what George Washington was for America.
The highlight of the day was the walk to the island of Fadioth. The foundation of the island is made entirely of shells and the only access to the island is by the foot bridge or by pirogue (rickety wooden boats.) There was a very festive feeling on the island and it was wonderful to be there with Francois, who stopped every now and then to greet friends and neighbors. This was one of the only times that we didn't fear being harrassed by local salesmen or conned by anyone trying to earn a couple extra CFA by insisting we needed to pay for parking or anything.
The citizens of Joal-Fadioth are proud of their religious tolerance. Thanks to Senghor 's family, who had converted to Christianity, Christians and Muslims live in harmony here. In the picture below, you can just barely make out the Catholic church on the left and the mosque on the right of the bridge.
The sun was just beginning to set as we were walking to Fadioth. From the direction of Joal, we could hear the constant chanting and drums of what Francois said was a wrestling competition.
Looking back toward the town of Joal 
We were walking along and I was so surprised to see Malia's name on the side of this little house. I just had to take a picture of it for her.
We were walking along and I was so surprised to see Malia's name on the side of this little house. I just had to take a picture of it for her.
The granaries are set on stilts out in the mangroves to keep the pests away. We were told that the grain stays good for up to a year in these little huts.
Granaries among the mangroves 
On the opposite side of Fadioth is another foot bridge that takes you to possibly the only cemetery in Africa that has Christians and Muslims buried side by side.
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