Senegal, Senegal

 

This Senegalese kitty sums up Senegal so well: scarred but still whole and beautiful. 

Senegal, Senegal is titled this way for a reason. You know when you want something real or specific you say it twice? Let's say you're craving pizza...but pizza, pizza. You know what I mean?

Anyway, I titled this post in this way because I wanted to emphasize the realness of what Senegal is (especially compared to the vacation destination of our surf camp on a little island off Senegal). Below is a picture of the street where our Airbnb is.

I want to point out a few things: 1) horse and cart, 2) unpaved roads (this is the capital, my friends).

The funny thing is that Senegal is a rich country; the problem is that the wealth is not going to the everyday people. As usual, it's going to the top 1% of the people who probably don't even live in the country. It's sad, but the people are really friendly and beautiful.

Yesterday, we decided to visit Goree Island, the place where over 33,000 slaves were taken to before shipped to South and North America. (Note: If you're reading this and feeling uncomfortable about slavery, sorry. It's real, and politicians are brainwashing you if you feel otherwise. It's okay to learn about our history and to recognize it happened). As usual, places like this bring about moments of contemplation and reflection. 

The images above are from the House of Slaves where people were brought before being shipped off. Imagine an airy, yellow house but filled with holding cells for humans. The doorway underneath the stairwell is called "The door of no return," and you can only imagine what people experienced once going through.

Throughout the city and island, though, there are reminders of the power of people. The below statue, entitled African Renaissance Monument: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/African_Renaissance_Monument, shows the power and beauty of people rising up, despite everything they have been through. 

I'm also reminded of how beautiful the human spirit is every time I pass a Senegalese and they look me in the eye (a lacking thing here in America sometimes), offer a hello and how are you (in French or Wolof, of course), and a smile. 

So, there you go, friends. It's rough here (and hotter than hell), but we're making do. I'm writing this the day after my hometown (Fort Myers) got hit by Hurricane Ian, so I know people's thoughts are elsewhere. That is okay. Rise up, friends. We are all very blessed.