I have not had internet access for
Day One:
We left on Saturday morning, catching a cab to the train stationat 5:30 am. However, in Senegal, train station does not mean train station. Rather, it's a hub where one can catch a bus or a seven-seater car called a sept-place to wherever one wants to go. In our case, we clambored aboard a sept-place heading to Tamba, a transportation hub in Southeast Senegal. Seven hours later, we disembarked to discover that our legs had turned to jelly and that Tamba, besides being a location at which to hire a driver, is also a vendor's paradise. Within two minutes, we had refused offers for bananas, juice in a bag, cell phones, and panties.
"Where are you going?" "Ou allez-vous?" Drivers pronounced as they swarmed our group along with the vendors. Now began the process of negotiating for a car to Kedougou, another town in Southeast Senegal with access to the mountains (really hills, but I'll call them mountains for Senegal's sake). Ultimately, we opted for a mini-bus, which at about $8 American, is $6 cheaper than the more reliable sept-place. But we didn't have too far to go; Kedougou was only three hours away, so why not? we reasoned.
Bad decision. After waiting for three hours for the bus to attract enough passenegers to load, the drivers decided to eat dinner before leaving. Add two hours waiting time. Dinner was fun, filled with French conversation with Senegalese taxi men and the smell of eggs fried in an inch of oil. However, the bus ride is an entirely different story. Packed to the gills, the fellow passengers thought it was funny to poke at the first person who tried to fall asleep. Which, unfortunately, was me. "Il faut taper elle!" " We have to poke her!"
Six hours and two identity checks by border police later, we arrived in Kedougou cramped, overtired, but thankful to have found a Kedougou native who could show us to the nearest auberge. Exausted, we collapsed in bed to sleep off our Senegalese public transportation adventure.
Day Two: Kedougou
We woke to full sunshine and nostrils full of fresh air. It was wonderful! In Dakar, cars don't have to filter their exhaust, so we end up breathing diesel fumes all day. In Kedougou, the worst smells were cow dung. After breakfasting on bananas (bought from a woman who only spoke Pular and didn't understand the hand signal for two) and pate d'arachide (a bitter peanut butter goo that we desperately bought in lieu of peanut butter the day before leaving), we called our guide Djiby to start our adventure!
Since we had arrived a day in advance (when traveling in Senegal, always allot yourself one extra travel day in case a car breaks down), Djiby took us to his house to eat lunch while we waited for our other guide Alpha. Rice mixed with peanut powder never tasted so good.
Finally Alpha rode up on his motorcycle and we discussed our plan of attack for the week. It ended up the following:
Day 1 (today): hike 9 miles to Bandafassi and stay at the campement (a camp with huts)
Day 2: climb a mountain to Itwol, visit the village, then hike 5 miles to the Iwol campement and visit a Pular village once we had settled in
Day 3: finish the trek to Dindefelo, a village 12 km from the Guinean border
Day 4: climb a mountain to visit various villages and see a small waterfall
Day 5: Visit the caves and the small village named Dinde
Day 6: pick peanuts, hike to the large waterfall, and catch a truck back to Kedougou
Day 7: leave
So, Day 1 turned out to be an incredibly hot and fast hike. Whenever we stopped, our bodies literally poured sweat. Kate, one of the girls on the trip, was stunned when she could wipe her forehead and fling water droplets into the air.
Day 2:
The first hike was quite lovely, as the early morning cloud cover kept the heat at bay until 11 am or so. We topped out onto a rocky summit where we could see the all the way to the Guinean mountain-border. Plus, Jocelyn, the other girl (the boy of the trip was Ed), and I discovered a V0 climbing problem on the summit! Easy, but at least it was climbing!
The trek finished with a hot slog into campement Iwol, where we met two French travelers. During our walk to the Pular village later in the afternoon, we met Pular children who could say how are you in Pular, French, Spanish, and broken English. Absolutely adorable. During the night, we experienced our first Southeast Senegal rain storm: the wind pushed our doors and windows wide open in a matter of seconds. Jocelyn had to weight the back of the door with my backpack to keep it shut.
Day 3:
Last trek with the heavy backpacks. As we had outwalked our guides by this point, they negotiated a free ride on the Frenchie's truck. So, 19 km later, we disembarked to trek the last 5 miles to our final campement, passing through Segou, the border village, where truckloads of Guineans and Senegalese arrive and depart. We actually saw one of these trucks being filled with rice and goods as we met one of the border patrol officers.
Once in Dindefelo, Pular for near the mountains, we followed our guides to the soccer pitch to watch the warmup of the national soccer tournement. Due to an unknown conflict, the game was never actually played.
Day 4:
Mountain climbing day! In Southeast Senegal, the mountains are rather tough to climb, despite their lack of height. Rather than employing switchbacks, trails are cut in the most direct manner possible: straight up. Read: ridiculously steep and fun treks. Village visits, swimming under a mini waterfall, and two lunches later (you can't turn down a food invitation), we stumbled back to camp to relax in our huts.
Day 5:
Caves and Dinde day. This time we hiked up the other side of the mountain on a trail even steeper and even more breathtaking. During our break halfway up, we looked over the misty mountains and listened to monkeys play in the trees below. At the caves, we found an old hunting cavern, lush flora, and wasps with a taste for Kate. In Dinde, we met two old women who gloried in stuffing us full of fresh peanuts and Jocelyn and Kate learned how to make traditional Senegalese pottery.
Day 6:
Last day in Dindefelo. Ed, Kate, and I picked peanuts for Djiby's mother and, in return, tasted tamarind oatmeal and received 10 pounds of raw peanuts. Picking was satisfying, but I sincerely hope that my host family loves raw peanuts. :) Mid-morning led to more waterfall swimming under an enormous cascade two kilometers from our campment. Even I loved the water, and I notoriously am not a fan of that element.
Sadly enough, afternoon meant the departure from Dindefelo. When we arrived back in Kedougou, we discovered that all of the cheap lodgings were filled, and we couldn't afford the pricier ones. Luckily for us, Djiby is a saint; he offered up his apartment until we had to catch our 4:30 am bus out of Southeast Senegal. Thus, we dropped our gear off in his studio, picked up two cases of beer (the Peace Corps are not teetotalers, Daniel stressed) and hiked to the Peace Corp house for dinner (thanks for an invitation from Daniel, the Dindefelo Peace Corp volunteer). Upon arriving, a huge grin broke out of my face. Mexican food and beer! Tacos with beef, cabbage, guacamole, and salsa felt like a gift from God. Plus, chatting with fellow Americans was relaxing in itself. We could exchange stories of life in the States and compare reactions about life in this funny country we all found ourselves in.
Day 7:
Even sadder than Day 6: the day to finally leave Senegal Orient. Djiby, always the saint, escorted us to our early morning bus out and departed to hearfelt goodbyes. Ten minutes after he left, a Peace Corps volunteer arrived at the station! Turns out, he was headed north as well! Thanks to him and his Pular language abilities, our transfer in Tamba went smoothly and cheaply.
The final leg of our journey was easily the dirtiest part of our adventure. Nine hours of dusty road equals red and dusty white people. When I finally showered at home, my white shampoo literally turned red in it's attempt to remove the dirt from my heavy and slightly sticky hair.
And...that's all for now!
