Senegal: Dakar

Saturday, March 18, 2023, Dakar, Senegal   

When the ship arrived in Dakar ours was the only cruise ship at the gigantic commercial port  Here is a description of our haphazard, but eventually satisfying day in Dakar.

We met 3 other couples and disembarked together for a private tour of Dakar, scheduled to start at 9 am. It was pretty close to that time when passengers were cleared to disembark. We thought we were meeting our guide on the pier, but once off the ship were told we needed to take a shuttle bus off the pier, witch was crammed with vehicles, equipment and containers. A call was made to our guide, and he was waiting for us outside the gate. 

It took a long time to get outside the port gate. The bus (and the vehicles in front of it) were stoppe frequently for no reason we could see with the long line of vehicles. It took about 20 minutes to get off the dock. Once we were off we spotted our guide and van, but the bus wouldn’t stop. Another call to the guide and a loud argument ensued between the official on the bus and our guide. It didn’t sound like French, Senegal’s official language. It turned out they were speaking Wolof, the language of the main ethnic group in Senegal. The bus finally turned back and dropped us off at our tour van.

After a few more minutes driving, the van was waiting at a stoplight and we realized the real main gate to the port was on our left, and our ship just a 3-minute walk beyond that. What the…? That is apparently where one would normally exit the port area but for some reason not on this day.

25 minutes later, our ship (in the background)—we could have walked in 5 minutes! 

We toured Dakar, a city of over a million people (metropolitan area of 3.4 million), first stopping at a local outdoor food market that was huge and sold everything. We breezed through the stalls, then stalls selling local handicrafts. After the delays, we were in a hurry. No time to buy a fan for my fan collection. Somehow Charlie managed to negotiate for a wooden mask as we briskly walked with the vendor following along. We’ve got it hanging on the wall!

Charlie’s mask from the market

Next stop was a city memorial for Senegalese men who fought in WW1 and WW2. Then the main Catholic cathedral.

Catholic Church looks a little like a mosque from the outside

After this, we sped along the coast in the van, first stopping at a mosque, then a huge monument to the African Renaissance, billed as representing Africa’s rise from centuries of ignorance, intolerance, and racism. Since it was Saturday, there were a many school children also visiting the monument. According to our guide, the schools do field trips on the week ends, partly to help feed them. There were a group of armed guards who were not happy when I ignorantly snapped their photo, but they didn’t confiscate my phone. Our guide told us the $28,000,000 statue is controversial because so much money was spent on it, North Korean laborers were used in a country where employment is scarce, and the Muslim majority (95%) is not keen on human form as an object of worship. 

Imam looking out a window at the mosque

Mosque

Controversial African Renaissance statue. We walked up all 199 steps.

Charlie surrounded by kids wanting their pictures taken

Not happy about me taking this photo.

Group of school girls lining up to see African Renaissance statue

Our tour included Goree Island, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. When we got to the ferry terminal (almost all the way back to our cruise ship) we were asked by one gatekeeper for passports. The tour company had not mentioned anything about passports to get on the ferry; few of us had them. After some confusion IDs became sufficient. Then our fellow-passenger/tour organizer found out that they wanted nearly ten times as much for tickets as she had been told. Nothing to do but pay up. It was only $10.

There were hundreds of school kids waiting very loudly and excitedly to get ferry tickets. I don’t know how he did it, but our tour guide managed to get us on the ferry ahead of most of them. When finally inside the terminal, the fan lady from the handicraft market appeared. Her shop was on Goree Island and she was taking the ferry back there. She began encouraging me to buy a fan. I was reluctant to spend too much money—since the price of the ferry was off by so much, what other unexpected expenses would come up? We may not have brought enough money with us on this outing. Charlie took over, and got the fan after lengthy negotiations. 

Inside the terminal at the Goree Island ferry

A fraction of the crowd at the ferry terminal.Lots of kids.

The ferry arrived and a couple hundred of us boarded. This ferry carried only people, no cars, which makes sense because Goree Island HAS no cars. The trip was short, only about 20 minutes. One goal was to visit the House of Slaves, but that wasn’t until 2:30 pm, so first we toured the small island on foot. There were artists everywhere. Sand paintings, jewelry, regular paintings, junk made into clever sculptures. Guys selling sunglasses. Women trying to sell me necklaces. I did buy a necklace, and a woman I didn't buy from demanded to know why I bought that necklace instead of hers. Because I liked the other one better. These saleswomen could be aggressive.   

Aboard the ferry

Eclectic group of passengers

It was so serene—no cars!

Our tour guide lived on Goree Island, so one of the most interesting things we did was visit his family in their humble abode. We got to meet his grandmother, aunt, one of his brothers, and some sisters. A close-knit, extended family. 

Our guide & his grandmother, who was sifting couscous

Note the house shaped like a boat

Our guide’s aunt at the extended family home

When it came time for the House of Slaves, things got complicated again. Our tour guide told us we needed to have West African Francs to purchase our tickets. The tour company had told us it was $5 US, and so far everyone—including small vendors—took US dollars. We didn’t have West African Francs. Our shipmate who booked this tour was not happy. Somehow US dollars got us in anyway. Don’t ask me how. Some things didn’t translate well.

The House of Slaves is a museum and memorial to victims of the Atlantic slave trade on Goree Island, and it was packed with tourists and guides explaining what it was about. It was hard to hear your own guide sometimes, and maybe that was OK. After its construction in 1776, captured people (men, women, & children) were separated and held in the dark, poorly ventilated cells. It was pretty horrific to see. There were pictures of famous people who had visited there: Barack Obama, Nelson Mandela, the Jackson Five, and Pope John II.

A school for gifted girls on Goree

Sand painter

After this, it was time to catch the ferry back to Dakar. Arriving back at the ferry terminal, the hundreds of people waiting to get to the island were gone, and what was left was likely a normal daytime crowd of a couple dozen people.

View of Goree from the ferry back

The group decided to walk back to the ship through the commercial pier, which may not have been that great an idea. There was a lot of traffic but we made it back with only one close call.