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Slave Trade Expedition to Africa
Excited about a nice meal with wine and cheese, Ken, Andrew, and I ignored the local food stalls and led our crew across the quarter-mile-wide island to the "French Side." Just what we hoped for: coral-colored sand, beach umbrellas, gentle surf, hillside cottages, and a French cafe. The chalkboard sign read:
Bienvenue au SoGué Resort Location parasols - 10,000 GF Prix matelas - 5,000 GF Access plage obligative - 3,000 GF
Translation: You are welcome at the SoGué Resort so long as you rent umbrellas for $2, mattresses for $1, and pay 75¢ to walk on the beach. After a peek at the cafe menu and hard looks from discriminating faces, our team of nine headed back to the "African Side" where we felt more welcome.
Andrew (Hoose, our photographer) disappeared into the bush. Ken (Dr. Kelly, our archaeologist) sat on rocks next to the water conversing with a lovely black lady in fashionable capri pants. Dr. Baldi, Ahmed Soumah, and Bah Oury mingled among the local crowd. The boatman and his mate stuck close to the boat. As it tends to do in Africa, the scene came alive with music and dance. African drums and voices sounded from a boombox in a food stall. Four young men struck up a soccer game, kicking a black and white ball between coconuts set up as goals. A strange fellow in jeans, red shirt, multi-colored jacket, Rastafarian turban, and boots danced solo on the beach. His actions looked like a cross between Seinfeld 's Elaine dance and Tom Cruise's samurai moves. The longer he danced, the more clothes he shed. When he reached his underpants, he stopped and walked away.
(Next week: The Baba-Gallé Soirée)
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