"Toubab! Toubab! Toubab"
The constant call of snotty-nosed (a statement of fact rather than an implied level of wealth or insult) children lining the streets of Toubakouta, a village on the south side of the delta. It means white person and is often suffixed by "how are you?" which reduces the slightly insulting nature of this greeting. It will also be accompanied by a limp hand-shake if you are stationary long enough. The joy of these acts seems to have worn thin by the age of 8 or 9 but until then toubab is shouted with near uncontrollable glee and a lot of jumping.
We have also been enjoying some dogs. We stayed one night on the north side of the delta on the island of Mar Lodj. Our campemant had three pet dogs who adopted us for the duration of our stay. This included following us for an afternoon's walk, lying under the table at mealtimes, hanging out on the pier as we swam, sleeping outside our bedroom door and getting very protective when Ross was struggling to lift Anneliese, while stood on the bed to hang our mosquito net. Their only activity separate from us was aggressively chasing the donkey every time he appeared from behind a hut.
To get from Mar Lodj to Toubakouta is a distance of 20km as the crow flies but our journey took us 10 hours and the following stages: caleche (horse and cart-ish), pirogue (boat), minibus, bus, motorbike, taxi, minibus, motorbike. And some roads that were more pot-hole than road. And a lot of rain.
Today we saw a very big tree. It is 800 years old. It is very big.
Tomorrow we head to the Gambia and, we are assured, cheaper times.
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