Last night in Dakar

Walking back to the hotel, I was full of raw fish and raw garlic. The Korean food was served with a red sauce, leaves of lettuce, and halved raw garlic cloves. I made wraps with the surprising ingredients that mixed well with each other. I was super happy with my last meal in Dakar, a $20 splurge well worth the taste of melting fish.

The 15 block walk to my 6th floor hotel room was surreal.

I walked down the middle of the street instead of the earlier weaving through the moving masses of car jams, carts, people, motorcycles, trucks. I walked unobstructed compared to the earlier feelings of being part of a video game hugging parked vehicles watching my feet and the protruding side mirrors of taxis as they beeped their way through narrow passageways.

It was a moment of silence.

The heavens were darkening with the setting sun. The sky was full of dark birds circling above. The air was full of prayers sung from loud speakers.

It was a moment of religious silence.
Everything seemed to be praying.

The narrow alley like streets below 2 story buildings were lined by non-moving huge trucks stacked high with bags of onions, by resting metal carts, lined by rows of men facing Mecca bowing in prayer, full of wooden benches of men breaking fast with coffee and sandwiches a feeling of a quiet rush to fill empty stomachs and wet dry throats.

I felt a sense of deep reverence, a sense of deep solidarity as a city prayed and broke fast.

Culture Shock in Dakar

At the free hotel breakfast buffet, I sat in the restaurant surrounded by French tourists who were part of a bus tour group. They wore shorts and tank tops so much more skin revealed than the skin covering fashion of Senegal. Cloth protects you from the sun. How long will it take me to feel comfortable revealing skin again once I'm back in the states?

I walked into a HUGE supermarket, Wal-Mart and Target-like and was overwhelmed! So many choices food, housewares, so many products. I walked each aisle like it was a museum, an enjoyable way to spend out of the sun in air condition.

I bought cheese, ham, chocolate chip cookies, bread, and chips. It was so expensive, $12, but then I realized I had forgotten what supermarket prices are are like. I get $200 a month. Shopping in a supermarket is a luxury for special occasions. At least I didn't go on a shopping spree buying ALL of the temptations I could.

Maybe I won't binge when I get back to the states.

This small vacation away from village has given me a taste of the Western world: supermarkets, an all you can eat Korean buffet with raw fish, current movies, air conditioned hotel room, lots of merchandise to browse, lots of people watching, a favorite pastime of mine. Yet I am already tiring of it and am ready for the simple life au village.

Sticking out like a Sore Thumb

Customer service at restaurants, tailors, and cloth vendors has been exceptional. Having a friendly attitude rather than presenting a cold wall of don't talk to me facilitates a friendly exchange. Instead of thinking just sell me the merchandise, just serve me the food, I make small talk making the experience pleasant.

In contrast though out on the streets among the street vendors:

Don't make eye contact
Keep a poker face
Keep walking
Don't say anything
Don't open the door to be harassed and followed.

I feel like I don't get harassed that much maybe a total of 5 times per outing: hisses, Madame Chinoise, Japonese, Ni hao (at least they say it right here compared to in Guinea where it came out as hee haw).

Do I get harassed less because I'm Asian? There is a somewhat large population of Asians living here in Dakar, maybe the locals are use to Asians. Maybe it is because I wear African cloth and am conservatively clothed compared to those in shorts or tank tops. I don't have the air of a tourist. At one restaurant, the waiter correctly labeled me as Peace Corps. Maybe the lack of harassment is because I stay away from touristy spots or maybe I'm just really good at looking mean and unfriendly.

I'm just glad I've met friendly people and have not been harassed into an attitude of I hate this city. Downtown Ouaga in Burkina has that affect on me. I stay away from downtown, from the vendors who won't leave you alone. Take a bike so you can escape their clutches.

Here in Dakar, I'm happy exploring in peace.