Dakar, and Gorre Island

My friend Chris offered to show me around Dakar for a day, to show me what the Paris of Africa is like. We went to Gorre Island, a small island off the coast of Dakar that was used as a hub during the slave trade. The island is covered with old French architecture, brightly colored buildings that the people of Gorre and Dakar are working to preserve as historical sites. There are several museums and monuments to the slave trade and the slaves.
We visited one museum housed in the former prison, and another in the former auction house. The rooms were preserved as they had been during the slave trade, with rooms for men, women, and children. It was amazing and heartbreaking to tour the buildings. Chris suggested we employ a local guide, and he explained the history and function of the slave house.
The island also has several art galleries, craft markets and wandering drummers and entertainers catering to the tourist that come from Senegal, West Africa, Europe and America.

The only white person on the bus...

I caught the first ferry out of Banjul, at 7am, with my giant blue suitcase and my green bag. On the ferry I was save from having my cell phone stolen by a nice women who spotted the would-be thief and alerted me to his intentions!
Firmly in possession of my, er, possessions, I exited the ferry and made my way toward the bus to Senegal and Dakar. As I walked up it was clear to me that there was no way I would get on. It was over full and people were yelling and pushing to get on. But, a young man approached me and asked if I wanted to take the bus. ‘Sure’ and then I was being shoved on the bus with my giant suitcase. People yelled and the boy was getting angry at people. I was plunked in a seat and told to stay there, no matter what. So I did. The bus eventually started for the border.
At the border I was cleared by immigration (shockingly, I was the only white person on the bus!). Then 50 ft later I was cleared by Senegal immigration.
As we neared Dakar my seatmate asked where I was going in Dakar. This was an interesting exchange, since she didn’t speak any of the languages I speak. With the help of some other passengers they figured out where I was going. Another kind woman took me under her wing and rode in the taxi with me to the Peace Corps Transit house.
Although the experience was hectic and a little scary, kind and gracious people helped me all along the way! Both Gambians and Senegalese were great! Thank you to everyone who got me where I was supposed to go!