After a fairly leisurely breakfast on the Djolloff Terrace, we headed to Goree Island, with its famous Slave House, artillery emplacements, and memorial. It was a short ferry ride off the Dakar coast. We spent the day there, with an exhaustive tour, up and down the island twice. Upon disembarking, we were surrounded my men hawking bracelets and women asking us to vist their shops. I'm sure they do this to all visitors, but we were particularly tempting prey: all that white skin, serving as a marker of our status, clumped together and following Waly Faye and Korka Sall, our facilitators and fixers for the trip. We walked through the small ville and market at the foot of the hill which is the prominent geographical feature of Goree, then headed up the hill to the restaurant at the top, where we had a great meal (although for some the fish were still a bit too close to the sea) and were introduced to a drink made from breadfruit, the fruit of the baobab tree. After lunch we met our on-site guide, Ali, who hustled us down the hill again to see the statue, and then to spend time in the Slave House. But the Slave House was being used for some governmental function, so he trekked us back to the top of the hill (by now the market women knew us all, as this was their third pass at us, and they were as persistent as mosquitoes). At the top we walked through some bunkers, the remains of a French fortification, saw a great sand art demonstration within a bunker, and walked around a huge French artillery emplacement (fired only once, sinking a British ship during WWII). We went back down the hill then, to the Slave House, which was the point of departure for many slaves headed to the Americas and the Caribbean. Another ferry ride back, a ride in the bus, then to dinner together on the terrace.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
May 16 - Goree Island
After a fairly leisurely breakfast on the Djolloff Terrace, we headed to Goree Island, with its famous Slave House, artillery emplacements, and memorial. It was a short ferry ride off the Dakar coast. We spent the day there, with an exhaustive tour, up and down the island twice. Upon disembarking, we were surrounded my men hawking bracelets and women asking us to vist their shops. I'm sure they do this to all visitors, but we were particularly tempting prey: all that white skin, serving as a marker of our status, clumped together and following Waly Faye and Korka Sall, our facilitators and fixers for the trip. We walked through the small ville and market at the foot of the hill which is the prominent geographical feature of Goree, then headed up the hill to the restaurant at the top, where we had a great meal (although for some the fish were still a bit too close to the sea) and were introduced to a drink made from breadfruit, the fruit of the baobab tree. After lunch we met our on-site guide, Ali, who hustled us down the hill again to see the statue, and then to spend time in the Slave House. But the Slave House was being used for some governmental function, so he trekked us back to the top of the hill (by now the market women knew us all, as this was their third pass at us, and they were as persistent as mosquitoes). At the top we walked through some bunkers, the remains of a French fortification, saw a great sand art demonstration within a bunker, and walked around a huge French artillery emplacement (fired only once, sinking a British ship during WWII). We went back down the hill then, to the Slave House, which was the point of departure for many slaves headed to the Americas and the Caribbean. Another ferry ride back, a ride in the bus, then to dinner together on the terrace.
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