Circling the Baobabs: Contemplating beauty on Goree

I think we were all a little taken with the picturesque-ness of Goree Island, a small island about a 20-minute ferry ride from downtown Dakar. For the first half of the day I was poised diligently with my camera taking in the French colonial architecture, the beautiful cobblestone streets, the yellows/reds/greens of the painted homes, and constantly running into the sea. But it was later when I got out from behind my camera that I realized, "This is great, but only slightly unrealistic. Take me back to the fumes and trash of Dakar. Goree is for tourists." I think all of us have in our bag of "reasons for coming to Senegal" the fact that we came simply because it's somewhere not France. Senegal is often coarse on the surface and it's an adjustment for us "first worlders" to live here, but that's the reason for coming, to discover all what lies beneath this complicated culture (even if that means going without toilet paper) and not to be awed by the romanticism of Paris.

Nonetheless it was a good trip. I haven't been out of the city since arriving here two weeks ago and I especially enjoyed the ferry ride to the island. It's an island that is reputed to have been integral in the slave trade but I've read that not very many slaves actually were transferred through Goree. Most went through the coasts of Benin (Ouidah) and Ghana (Cape Coast), which I visited and the forts there were massive compared to the tiny "Maison des Esclaves" (House of Slaves) on Goree.

I think what I loved most was wondering down the small alleys where I'd run into regular people going about their day (sleeping, cooking, visiting, washing clothes). The sounds of chatter and vendors advancing "my sister, make me happy be my first customer" vanished and I was left with the sounds of the street and the never-distant sea.