Ile De Goree

They say the map is not the territory, today we headed for the famous (or is it infamous) Ile de Goree. Luckily for us it was the start of a three day art and craft exhibition on the island. Ile de Goree is a UNESCO world heritage site, and perhaps
the most famous of the ancient slave trading ports in the world. Many heads of states, royals and even the last Pope have visited the its shores.

Ile de Goree is a must see for any visitor to Dakar. Sila took us to the embarcadere de Goree which was coincidentally next to Dakar's railway station, (which I learnt could take you all the way to Bamako Mali).

The port was laden with passengers waiting for the next boat. I bought tickets for three and ended up sitting in between my
mother and a white woman who attended to a young native boy, she wore a white shirt and red skirt, and her calfes were criss-crossed with bold green veins. "Bon jour Madam", "Bon jour", Vous allez ou Ile de Goree" "Oui" "Vous etes Franciase" "Non
je suis Belguise" "Et vous, vous etes Senegalise," "Non madam, je suis Nigeria" "Vous parlez francaise au Nigeria" "No Nigeria ces pays Anglophone". According to Rosa many of the Belgiuese don’t even know Jean Claude Van Damme. So much for “popular” culture
The boy was her adopted son a four year native boy, Gabrielle. "Where does the sea come from," he asked his mother as we made our way from the port."From the sky" was her motherly she replied. Among the boats passengers, were some caucasian American, I was surprised that no noticably African American "pilgrims" were with us. Our anticipation heightened as the boat approached the port, several unofficial guides had made their way to the island to woo some fast cash, Mother needed help getting off the
boat, she still some of the youth left from pervious travels, Sila our strong but gentle guide led the way. Everywhere music played and posters and banners showed us the way around the various exhibits. The buildings of Goree island had a multicoloured hues, yellow, white some green, but a deep pink that matched the islands sand seemed predominant. Our first stop was the "Masion de Esclaves". The house of slaves. I try hard to imagine the suffering that had taken place here centuries ago. A breaded and from his narration more genuine tour guide was narrating some of the history of the "House of Slaves" to the American party. His voice baritone and bass laden and his eyes blood shot accenuated his authority. "Over six million people died during the slave trade..........African Americans have now have not just excelled in sports and entertainment but with the election of Barack Obama politics as well."




The "House" had two seperate chambers for women and even one for infants above the lower chamber of the maison was a small museum with some chains and sackles. Rosa was with Gabrielle could he make any sense of the place? Frankly speaking there really wasn't very much to see I believe either UNESCO or the Sengalise government had moved most of the items to a separate place for better safekeeping.

Wandering futher on through the Island took us to different shops and displays, a lady who made dolls of the different Senegalise tribes and cultures one was of a Fula maid complete with timude (the Fulfulde for calabash).



Cash was
short so I couldn’t purchase anything I did get cards from many artist and traders. It was an ironic mix colourful arts on a
island with a dark past. We passed a large Catholique church a building that dedicated to the Knights of Malta. It was
time for Asr and with Sila help we found the mosque.