Dakar

I probably appreciated Dakar way more after spending a week in Liberia than if I'd flown directly there from the U.S. It's probably the most metropolitan city in west Africa. Even so, there is still a crazy high unemployment rate (somewhere around 80% is what I heard). When we were walking to and from dinner, child beggars would follow us along with their hands out, palms up, saying "Madam, Madam, s'il vous plait?". That was hard to see. Pickpockets were also very bold near our hotel. Two women in our group were almost pickpocketed on two separate nights. The first, and older woman, hit the would-be criminal in the leg with her cane. The second near-victim knew something was up, because this guy was walking backwards in front of her going on and on about how great her shoes were, trying to get her to look down and take her focus off her belongings. When she felt his accomplice reach in her pocket, she yelled at him, and they backed off.

It was kind of fun to practice my (tres mauvais) French. In meetings, I probably understood about 30% of what was said. At least I could tell what the topic was, if not all the details. Even though I didn't have a very big vocabulary, one Senegalese colleague said my pronunciation was very good. I also got to hear people speaking Wolof, the most prevalent tribal dialect in Senegal. It sure sounded cool, kind of staccato and rapid. It was always a little weird when you'd hear two people talking in French, and then realize that they'd switched over to Wolof. Besides the language, the French colonial period left a legacy of good food. We ate at a French creperie twice. The second time, I decided to skip straight to desert, since it was the desert crepe I really wanted anyway! There's also a sizeable Lebanese population in Dakar, and a Lebanese colleague took us to his favorite Lebanese restaurant.

In Dakar I had my first experience of meeting a Muslim man who couldn't shake my hand due to his religious convictions. I had expected that in Sudan (where I actually didn't encounter it), but it surprised me in Dakar. The Islam just seems less obvious there. After the meeting, the same colleague who complimented my French pronunciation explained why the guy couldn't shake my hand. He also said that while some men wouldn't shake women's hands, he had made the personal decision to shake only women's hands!

Dakar is the western-most African city, and it was a hub of the slave trade. In my pictures, you'll see a few shots of Isle de Goree, which was the point from which slaves were sent to the Americas. If I'd had more time, I would have liked to take a tour, but our schedule was pretty full. We did have time to go to a marketplace. I bought a cool-but-hideous mask. I think I got it for the equivalent of $22 USD. The guy I bought it from told me it was 15 years old--an antique! :) I hung it in the stairwell, right as you enter our front door. Zach doesn't like it there, because it's a bit startling, but I haven't found a better place for it yet. I also got a necklace with a millefiore bead on it. Millefiore beads were made in Italy in the 1800s and early 1900s, and for a time were used as currency in African trade.

Flying home, we connected through Paris. In a funny coincidence, I got in the security line directly behind an electrical engineer I work with, who was returning home from Bamako. I guess now that I'm traveling a lot, and working with others who do too, I'm going to start running into people I know in foreign airports!