Our Strongest Impressions
This is the most difficult to define because they are so wide-ranging and all-encompassing in their contrast to what we normally experience. They seem to fall into three main categories: emotional, logistical, and sensory. Each was intense.
The emotional impressions were ones described in previous postings: my sense of being other as a white person in a Black society and my family’s sense of belonging as - for their frist time - Black people in a Black society.
The logistics of travel, language, and commerce were quite different and for the most part quick to sort out. Travel was surprisingly easy to arrange, for we had money. But it was not comfortable. Language was a barrier, even with technology, for many people we needed to engage were unable to read the written translation. Many did not speak a language with any commonalities to what is familiar to our Western ears. A welcoming culture - teranga - and the need to do business made things possible, but it involved trust on both sides.
Pretty much anything that can go, does.
Buses operated on their own rules, routes, and schedules, all seemingly understood or just accepted, but not published or apparent. As moneyed foreigners, we were able to purchase “skip the line” access tickets, as one does in Europe.
Taxis were plentiful and for us very cheap. They were also an experience – doors and windows frequently did not work, air conditioning was imaginary, roads were rough, the cars had seen two to three times the mileage of any car most North Americans would trust, engines ran on 2-3 cylinders (out of 4), and the instrumentation and controls largely ornamental. Gasoline prices were listed at similar rates to the USA, which meant that driving to the airport costs in fuel what is half a day's wage for the average Senegalese. Trust and determination of people working hard to make a living saw us through.
Heads are used by many to carry heavy loads. Children learn from a young age, and while it appeared most frequently practiced by females, it was not exclusively so.
Many transactions were cash only, or electronic, but not plastic credit cards. Currency (West African CFA francs) was all but impossible to get before we arrived, most ATMs were not working or did not accept our US-based bank, and those that did issued notes of 10,000 CFA or larger, which are challenging to use. The average daily wage is about 5,000. Many people use digital currency from their smart phones, which seemed almost as common as in North America. Digital banks have been operating there for many years, and some have small storefronts for deposits and withdrawals. For travellers without local accounts, it was cumbersome. For the Dakarois with technology, it seemed seamless.
Safety did not seem to be a factor in movement – of cars, stairs, or building trades – but life jackets were worn seemingly without instruction on watercraft.
The Sensory were near all-encompassing.
Visual stimulation was highly expressive and delightful, from the brightly colored fabrics, buildings, and murals, to the non-European-based textile patterns. The huge variety of garments – traditional and modern - not made in a factory were exciting. Perhaps more unusual were not just the use of vibrant colors, but the combination of colors and the patterns. From traditional to contemporary, nearly all were new to us.
Vibrant colors and patterns were not restricted to females.
Touch was felt through the heat and humidity, the uneven walking surfaces, and the worn-out car suspensions on bumpy city streets. It was also the feel of silk, linen, and cotton garments. It was the ocean breeze and the shade from an awning or a very occasional tree. To cool one’s feet, you go to the beach, not one of the very few public parks. Fresh water for drinking and cleaning was readily available, but we saw no fountains or ponds (yellow fever and malaria are very real there), but hotels do have chlorinated swimming pools for visitors.
Sound was loud and boisterous, from the rhythms of West African music (recorded and live bands) to the sounds of mis-firing vehicle engines, and of course the different cadence and sounds of Wolof and other Senegalese languages.
The tastes and smells of the city environment were ones of salt air, dust, and grilled fish, meat, coffee, drinks, and spices. We saw zero fast food chain restaurants or outlets, and few traditional restaurants. We did see many roadside and storefront stands, grilling stations on the beach, and dibiteries for grilled meat (dibi in Wolof) which can be found only by word of mouth or the smoke billowing out of an open doorway. For lovers of rich coffee, Senegal’s own café Touba should not be missed. Sub-Saharan drinks we encountered were bouye juice from the baobab tree’s “monkey bread fruit” and bissap from the hibiscus flower, both new favorites.
If one wants to truly experience a place as different from North America as Senegal, one doesn’t relax. The experiences are too intense. For us, that involves continued reflection and delightful discovery.
Perspective:
This week brought news of a boat of young Senegalese men found floating adrift near Cape Verde Islands. Unbeknown to us, while we were in Dakar, 101 young men set out in a pirogue similar to the one below in search of a better life in Europe. They departed from a village just a short distance from our hotel. Two thirds didn’t survive. How fortunate we are to have the option to travel - the cost for each of us to fly to Senegal is about two dozen meals in a nice restaurant. For us, we will be reconsidering where we travel and how it can have the most positive impact on where we venture – locally owned hotels, airlines, places to eat, locally grown food, etc. This was a goal of our trip, but I’m sure we can do better.
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