City of Yoff

Ok, our hands are covered with what feels like animal fat.

And that is just from dinner, when we washed our hands just before eating.

Spent the day travelling to and from the nearby "tortoise village" reserve with a taxi driver, mumudou, who saw fit to join us everywhere we went and expected us to pay. that seems to be the senegalese way--at least, the way people seem to behave in a city near the capital where travellers aren't rare.

that's one reason why, tomorrow, we plan to head south one way or another. the plan is to have the ocean on our right as we make our way south to banjul.

tonight we wandered through the dusty, well-trafficked streets of yoff. ran into some local youth with an out-of-commission djembe. they said they were the core members of a crew called "homeless" -- not because they were, but because they live without constraints, freely. one member's talent was the issuing of a stunning, ringing, gutteral throat emission. another rapped, in english because he was half gambian. he offered to travel with us to show us "la bonne route", the good way. we said perhaps but already learned our lesson today about how that works!

as a side note, here is how a sentence would look if we typed in the way we're accustomed: Pqul found q cockroqch in his chqwqr,q todqy qnd hqs forever been turned off his fqvorite food:

thqt is; the qfricqn keyboqrd is different in so,e key zqys; npt to ,ention difficulties zith the spqcebqr qnd delete keys:

until nextti,e: