Dakar, for a longer stretch

Dakar is one of the prettiest places, dotted with hibiscus flowers and bougainvillea, the Atlantic Ocean surrounding the city, and views of the water peeking out from unlikely places behind construction sites. It's the western-most point in Africa and sunny practically every day, although surprisingly chilly and very windy this time of year. I actually feel a bit unprepared for this kind of weather, since all I can remember is how uncomfortably hot I felt for most of the fall. But now it's like the perfect weather in coastal California - minus the wind - pleasant by day and cool enough at night to warrant an extra layer. The wind is an element of its own, especially in a place as dusty and sandy as Dakar, with largely unpaved roads that end up as mini dust storms when the wind picks up. I laugh at myself naively thinking that I wouldn't need help with housekeeping and laundry, but after seeing how quickly clothing and everything becomes filthy after walking along dirt roads I've reconsidered. Most expats here and mid- and upper-class Senegalese families hire day maids and cooks to create jobs. One guard at the house even said to me, "When you find your own apartment, if you need cleaning, my cousin is available," which shows how much people depend on such income.

My flight from New York arrived at 6 in the morning in Dakar, and the city lights stood out after flying across the ocean in the pitch black of the night. The Dakar airport is apparently well-known for the shocking effect it has on first-time visitors: everyone descends from the plane onto the tarmac and packs into a bus that takes everyone to the main terminal, then everyone swarms to get a landing card and go through immigration before picking up luggage and loading it through an x-ray machine. One might be exhausted from the sheer number of people pushing through the line at this point, but the real fun begins the minute one exits the terminal. Men yell out, "Taxi? Taxi? Madam, taxi?" and insist on following you even if you decline. Five or six will surround your cart of luggage and pick up your bags and carry them for you unless you are firm enough in saying that you don't require their help. One of the organization's drivers was waiting for me and was a friendly face to see amidst the sea of hecklers. While he went to get the car, 3 or 4 others asked if I needed a taxi and followed me to the car and loaded my luggage, despite the driver shooing them away. I reached into my bag and grabbed a few American coins - all I had accessible - and gave it to them just so they'd give me some space!

It was hard to leave Seattle after a few weeks of visiting family and friends during the holidays, but I've been welcomed warmly here and folks in the office where I'm working seem happy to see me again. I'm really excited about the projects I'll be working on and am happy to be in Dakar for a longer period of time. I'm rather amazed, too, but how much easier it's been to return to a place that I've visited before, in comparison to the first time I touched down in Africa, in Dar es Salaam, when everything was utterly overwhelming - the heat, the chaos of traffic, the sheer number of people everywhere. Not that it's easy, but it's not the shock of everything being new.



Franklin is the resident dog at the home where I'm staying until I find a place of my own. Such a good dog and the nicest daily welcome wagon!