La vie dakaroise

Officially I am starting month 3 of my contract, but I’ve been travelling so much that I have only racked up about 5 weeks or so in town, so I’m still indulging myself as a beginner. This means that I am still allowed to go to the ‘Bakery of Hope’ on the corner near my flat and eat their fantastic cream doughnuts as a meal until I sort myself out properly and that sort of thing….

Dakar, if you don’t know it, to me is similar to Nairobi in terms of scale, busy-ness, general feel and whatnot, but it’s by the sea and you are about a million percent less likely to be a victim of a nasty crime. (I’m somewhat superstitious so I am now clinging to my wooden desk). So far I have a warm feeling about the place, but then that is probably because I live and work out of town so I don’t ever have to go there; going into town and getting stuck in the perpetual traffic jams are my choice and usually because I have something fun to do (like buying saucepans). I imagine that anyone who has to drive there a little bit every day might feel less benevolently about it.

So, a few titbits about Dakar that the lonely planet (maybe) doesn’t tell you about:

- Mosque noises
This is my first time working in a Muslim country and so it caught me by surprise. During the day I find the calls to prayer often very soothing, but first thing in the morning it can drive you to distraction. I am slowly training myself not to have to sleep with earplugs and manage not to wake up during the 4.40am call - considering there are 2 loudspeakers pointing directly at my house that is no mean feat.

- City Animals
I wonder what the goat, sheep and cow population of Dakar is. Actually the sheep population is a darn site lower after Tabaski, until next December when they will fill the central reservations of all the main roads again and every street corner will look like a nativity scene with a little tent, candle light and the animals. Cows have right of way in traffic, and goats have to look out for themselves- must be a size thing.

Horses are also a popular means of transport – it’s a nice sight in the evenings to see them all lined up by their carts munching away in their nosebags. And frankly, why not – I can’t think of a better way of carrying fridges and wardrobes about the town. It’s much simpler than trying to squeeze things into white vans, and eco-friendly!

- Friendliness
It’s hard to express in words how hospitable and just all round nice everyone has been to me so far. The Senegalese teranga (hospitality) is a bit of a cliché, but I think it goes beyond that somehow. Everyone has gone out of their way to be helpful since the day I arrived and to give you an example, I am just the right side of 30 and plenty big enough to look after myself, yet 2 different households have sent me food round for dinner this week…

- Rubbish
I’m going to mention this now because already I have become used to it and in a few weeks time most likely I will stop noticing altogether. The rubbish in this city is dire. It is everywhere. There is not a piece of empty land that doesn’t have a big fat pile of debris on it. The goats are doing their level best to deal with it, but even they struggle with plastic, metal and wood, and even with the organic rubbish they can’t quite eat it quickly enough before it starts to smell.

Mind you, I did see a sheep chewing on a fussball table yesterday.