The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian"
"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere"
So maybe the town I checked out this weekend wasn’t solely composed of pagans and Christians- but it’s Christmas, and I’m enjoying my holiday tunes….so you get to put up with my artistic license.
Where did I go? I went to a village called Joal-Fadiouth, birthplace of Senegal’s first president and poet Léopold Sédar Senghor
(or if you didn’t know this, you might’ve thought he was the rich guy who owned the Dakar airport). Where is Joal? It’s on the Petite Côte, south of Dakar. Here class, I brought in a map:
(or if you didn’t know this, you might’ve thought he was the rich guy who owned the Dakar airport). Where is Joal? It’s on the Petite Côte, south of Dakar. Here class, I brought in a map:
Here we are, on the red spot under Dakar’s nose. I like how this map cuts out Gambia. Makes Senegal look like a cool shadow puppet.
And what motivated me to escape the peninsula for the day? Well beaucoup de choses….and not just because I have a real soft spot for poets…
I do believe that I visited the #1 Pastis consumer population of Senegal today. Not the reason for me coming down here, but it’s still a pretty entertaining motivator, given the fact that it’s a country where about 95% of people are devout (yet tolerant) Muslims. The others are Catholics and animists.
Arriving in town, we started off by taking a magical pirogue ride to discover the many amazing attributes of this village. Maybe not magical. Precarious might be the better word.
Photo stolen from a friend’s Facebook page (thanks Becca), just so I can type:
“I’m on a boat, I’m on a boat, Take a good hard look at the motherf*** boat”
Actually, we didn’t have to take the pirogues, but it did give us a chance to get up close to the estuary. This wasn’t my fourth grade field trip to the salt marsh, where I came back smelling like nature at its foulest…
Can you say low freeboard? You get to experience a bit of our serene pirogue ride, without feeling like you are going to fall into the drink. Here, I’m trying to show you that oysters grow at the base of the mangroves.
Tooling around in the pirogue, we got to check out these granaries that traditionally stored millet (and kept the mice away). Our tour guide, David (“like Beckham, LA Galaxy- married to the Spice Girl” he explains), serenaded us with ‘O Solo Mio’… cause pirogues and gondolas are really close cousins.
Joal-Fadiouth is primarily known because it has a cemetery built on an island made of seashells. It is either accessible by pirogue or footbridge; it is also the only cemetery in Senegal where Christians and Muslims are interred together.
Coming up upon the cemetery, the island is pocked with many majestic baobab trees, a the symbol of Senegal.
This village is predominantly Catholic (the Christian population is every bit as pious as their Muslim brothers- even if you find many families comprising members of different religions with no problem). The Catholic majority is reflected in the dominance of graves bearing crosses.
Here are two of Muslim graves, facing Mecca of course.
A view from the top of cemetery. On the horizon (at left) you can see the minaret of a mosque, and to the right you can see a cross atop a church steeple. When JP II visited many years back, he said that this place was a model of tolerance for the world to follow. I find it hard to disagree with the Polish dude.
Leaving the cemetery and walking to Fadiouth, also known as the shell village. No vehicles are allowed, making for a very serene day outside of Dakar. No taxis beeping at you either.
*Exhale*
Lots of pigs in this village, and I’m positive I smelled bacon.
As I’m typing this blog entry from the seventh floor of my apartment building, I can clearly hear the chants religieux wafting up from the mosque below. I’m not a terribly religious person, but I didn’t realize how much I missed Christianity until I woke to the sound of church bells while visiting Budapest a few weeks back. Here, I kind of experienced the same thing; it was kind of refreshing to see the predominance of icons around the village:
Mary and Joseph, located right next to the town’s sacred baobab tree. David Beckham told us that this tree was special because it had special properties, and never loses its leaves. This anecdote is illustrative of how traditional believes marry with the “modern” religious practices.
How can you not love the blessed virgin Mary? Here is a striking representation of her in Fadiouth.
Hey Jesus! Long time no see…
Okay, so before I start cracking sarcastic jokes and coming off as a blasphemer to my faithful Christian friends, I will move on to the next part of our day trip. It involved more aesthetics that was loosely tied to the Christianity, or at least more so than Islam…
Next stop, the town of Warang. A nice oasis including a frog pond (with real frogs!), a requisite baobab tree…and a bar to the left. Today so didn’t feel like I was in Senegal- at least no the one that I knew of…
Before braving the traffic of Rufisque, we steeled ourselves with a tasting of different liqueurs that are created from local fruits. This one I liked; it was reminiscent of limoncello.
This one (and two others), not so much. Syrupy sweet is not one of Megan’s preferred tastes, and this bissap-ginger concoction just screamed “angry hangover” to me. I think there were some very drunk ants below my bench…
Okay, I think that I have tortured you with enough photographs for one post. The next one will likely have more of the same, complete with me showing you continued Christian propaganda as Christmas is in full force here in Dakar. For now I’ll just say that this was probably the best trip that I have taken in Senegal thus far- and it’s not because of the whole religion thing. I’d love to go back, eat some bacon, check out more of the town and its people, and just experience the vibe that is so alien to the bustling tourist and city centers of this country.
I also like drinking Pastis.