Five days in Dakar: Part 1

As you could probably infer from the previous posts, I spent the last five days in Dakar, the capital and largest city of Senegal. I went to visit Alex, and I'm really glad I did: although it was the priciest trip I've taken while in France, it was certainly an unforgettable experience.

The excitement started on the way there. I flew with Royal Air Maroc from Marseille to Casablanca, where I'd change planes and head to Dakar. Royal Air Maroc's planes are interesting: written notices are in English and Arabic, while their announcements are in Arabic and French. I waited in Casablanca's Mohammed V airport for my connecting flight, and they didn't start boarding until very late. All the passengers were guided down some stairs to buses that would take us across the runway to the plane. But we waited and waited and waited without the buses going anywhere. After a while, a woman from the airline came and told us to go back into the terminal and wait. It turned out they didn't have a plane for us, so we waited an hour or so while Royal Air Maroc "found" a plane. As we got on to the new one, a French man in front of me asked, "What kind of plane is this?" "It's a 737-500," replied one of the airline workers. "Don't worry, it's a good one."

By the time I got to Dakar it was late so we didn't do anything other than find the university residence where I was staying and go to bed. The next morning, I woke with a start at 7 a.m. thinking I'd slept through my alarm because sunlight was streaming through the window. Senegal doesn't follow any kind of daylight savings time, so the sun rises much earlier than here in France. The room in the university residence was surprisingly roomy and comfortable, although the bathroom was a little primitive. The shower water was warm for almost two minutes. Breakfast was fried eggs and a baguette with cheese and butter. They also gave us boiling water in which to add instant coffee and instant milk.

Outside, it was seriously hot—as in over 80ºF hot. The sun isn't actually as bright as you'd expect in Dakar, because it's mitigated by a mixture of dust and pollution in the air, but the air was still extremely hot. I saw Alex's school, WARC, and got to pose next to a baobob tree like a true tourist. We also briefly saw the coastline as we tried to find the Mali embassy (Alex and a friend are planning to visit Mali once their classes are over), although the embassy was shut.
After lunch we went to the marché HLM, a market unlike any I've seen before. It stretches for the equivalent of four American city blocks and the stands are packed in tighter than the seats on RyanAir flights. It was loud, crowded, and offered all sorts. Alex bought some scarves and we tasted hibiscus juice, sold in little ziplock-style bags and incredibly refreshing in the afternoon heat. Prices at the market were, like most prices in Dakar, up for negotiation; Alex got her scarves for half the price the seller first suggested. As it was by now around 5 p.m., many of the vendors stepped out of their stands to lay down mats, wash their feet, and pray.

Next we went to the Place de l'Indépendance, in some way's Dakar's downtown with banks, shops, and other tall buildings. I don't have any photos because it was busy and we were already being hassled to buy phone cards, "Dior" sunglasses, "Gucci" clothes, and to give money to little children, so I decided against standing around taking pictures. Because it was so hot, we had ice cream from a place called Nice Cream—make up your own joke about that business name.

I'm still tired after all my traveling over the past two weeks, so that's as much as I'm going to write tonight. Check back tomorrow to read about the rest of my trip.