Ziguinchor to São Domingos: Branco!

I did leave Ziguinchor for Guinea Bissau after all. David, the Spanish cycler, was saying that the border would be closed on weekends but then he said he might have confused the border with the embassy. *grin*

I woke up late and didn’t feel like doing anything. It’s interesting how I got to like Ziguinchor in not even two days, despite the fact that there isn’t really much to do there.

I decided to go those traditional houses of Casamance, case d’inflivium. They are built in shape of a doughnut (the American version) with the roof collapsing down towards the hole in the middle, where on the ground there is a shallow basin to collect and drain rainwater.

The Bradt Guide to Senegal mentions several villages to visit, I picked the nearest one, Enampore. However the guidebook also mentions the scarcity of transport to Enampore. I start searching online and found… a website of the network of touristic camps that have been created by the government in Casamance. The inflivium in Enampore is one such campement touristique. The website mentions taxi costs 4000-6000cfa one way from Ziguinchor, I thought it’s alright for a 25km trip.

I walked out, bought a half-baguette with cream cheese and two eggs for 600cfa and while walking to the nearby Le Perroquet, my coffee joint, I asked a taxi for the price to Enampore. The driver didn’t know where it is. He called someone. Found out. Told me 20.000cfa. Quickly we ended up at 8.000cfa, just what I needed.

But it’s out of town, the roads are rough, we first went to fill up petrol and pump up the tyres.

It’s a quick journey, well marked with signs to Enampore. At the beginning of the dirt road there is a checkpoint, one has to pay 250cfa as a “community tax”.

The road was a bit bumpy but pretty and empty. Casamance is still sandy but there are already signs of the equatorial laterite soil with its vivid red colour. We drove through the palm grooves, passing occasional houses. It was a pretty sight.

Soon we arrived at the campement. It’s 500cfa for the “right to visit” the inflivium and one of the ladies attending to it is explaining everything. 6 families can live in one building and the water, which I thought is caught in the basin in the middle through the hole in the roof, is only drained away from the building. Apparently if the water stayed inside the building would collapse being made mainly of clay. The roof is thatched and there was even fétiche de la maison, which comprises of two cow jawbones and two cups to feed water to each jawbone.

Overnighting is not too expensive at 5000cfa but the food served is, full board costs 14500cfa. It’s a very quiet and pretty place and I did find myself wishing I had come here to stay and walk around more.

I took coffee (Nescafé obviously but at least the coffee was served from the can and not sachet so I could make it stronger), the driver got a bonus coke from me and we returned.

I had lunch, a dish called un bon plat de Casamance which means a good fish from Casamance. If was fish with rice, a few vegetables and a palm oil (I think pure palm oil, not a sauce) to pour over the rice and a sourish sauce, which was rather nice had it not been of a saliva-style structure, drawing and generally putting me off. The waiter said it was made from bissap, which I still is a hibiscus.

I took a jakarta motorbike to the gare routière where I sat in a car to São Domingos in Guinea Bissau, the first village/town behind the border. It’s only a 30-minute-ride yet I paid 2200cfa for it and I have an impression the ticket says 800cfa. Aaaaaand the man who showed me the right car demanded a cadeau but I talked myself out of it. The car was full of stuff, that perhaps explains the exorbitant baggage price. Bags of foodstuffs, bags of washing powder.

The border took a few minutes on each side, however on the Guinean side the customs asked me to open my small rucksack. There is no sign nor a flag on the border, I knew when I entered Guinea when one of the women selling oranges (they sell them peeled) shouted Branco!

So here I am, being called branco by people. In some countries or even among different tribes there is a word describing a white person. There is muzungu in East Africa, there is ferenj in Ethiopia, there is oyinbo all over Nigeria, there is onyocha in Igbo lands in Nigeria, there bautauri in Hausa lands in Nigeria, there is obroni in Ghana. The Bissaus (?) settled for just a white.

I am going to Varela on the coast, to stay a night around a beach, which hopefully will be empty. I even saw a toca toca (minibus) of a very sad shape waiting for passengers but I decided to stay in the village.

There is Octavio’s Rooms & Restaurants, which I’m not sure is called like that because there is no sign but the man’s name is Octavio and he speaks at least French. Room without AC is 9500cfa, room with AC (I think only until between 7 and 11pm when electricity is on) is 11500cfa.

The rooms are quite alright. No mosquito nets though.

I went to look for my sim card. And man, internet is expensive here. In Senegal Orange asks 5.000cfa for 7GB, here 5GB costs 10.000cfa. SIM card alone I paid in a shop next to the already closed Orange office 750cfa.

There is nothing to do in the village except lazy walkarounds. Dinner at Octavio’s (chicken salad rice and chips) is 3.000cfa. Beer costs 650cfa for a large can.

I’m reading Water music by TC Boyle which is an Indiana Jones-style novel about discovery of River Niger in 18th century, based on facts but at times hilariously written.