pcvs like to joke when we go to dakar that we're actually leaving senegal and going to a whole new coutnry. in many ways this is true; dakar is the biggest city in west africa and has in some shape or form everything you miss about home. (except snow, cheddar cheese, spotted cow, family and friends...) but they do have a ton of restaurants (indian, chinese, brazilian, lebanese, vietnamese, etc etc etc) plus n'ice cream, a little slice of heaven offering over 30 flavors of ice cream everyday. so when pcvs come to dakar it takes us a little while to get used to things. (it would kind be like going from chugwater, wyoming to new york for the first time. a lot to take in for both body and mind.) and it's always weird because we tend to blend in better here. there is a huge expat community both american and other western countries, plus the tourists (though trust me, we AREN't tourists in dakar). half the time i don't think the majority of us know what to do with ourselves.
such as been the case for the last week or so i've been here. i had my mid-service doctor's exam (making sure everything is okay, and it is) this past week and so have been hanging out while a few friends cos (go home). we've done the usual; n'ice cream (obama cookies, chocolate pear, tiramisu, pistacio, yummmm....), happy hour, and food glorious food. but that's all good if you're here for a few days (for various reasons, one being that your gi system just got used to eating rice everyday, another, your bank account dwindles) if you're here any longer things start to get a little boring.
so a few friends and i decided to play 'tourist'. (like i said, we're not tourists. once people know we speak the local languages and refuse to speak in french we get treated as something better than a tourist (not getting ripped off big time) but not quite a local (paying the real price)). we went to the grocery store (yes, a grocery store with aisles and a frozen food section.) and bought goat cheese, brie cheese, bread, olives, and red wine (very pricey, but today we are tourists!) then we went to ngor island (where the rich have their second house) and ate our delicious food on the beach. (did i mention that it was alsmost two pounds of cheese?) there, looking out at the ocean and the beach we were struck with how different dakar really is from the village.
teenagers on summer vacation were on the beach playing without adult supervision and not a care in the world. i don't remember the last time my brothers, sisters and cousins got more than an hour or two off from working, chores, or helping in the fields. being able to go to the beach isn't free. it costs 500cfa per person (little over a buck) to get there, then you have to pay for an umbrella and spot. with 500cfa in the village the women buy everything they need for lunch and dinner that day (vegetables, oil, spices etc.) and that is a huge expense. people were friendly and left us alone. we didn't get hassled on the beach like we would if we went to a neighboring village.
as we sat there, we couldn't help admiring the lives the people around us had. after a while though, i began to think about my family back in diambo. how lucky i am to be able to come to dakar when i want to. i've seen so much more of senegal than anyone in my village and have lived in way more comfort. how different life is back in the village where a trip to the weekly market is the big occasion. the disparity between dakar and the rest of senegal is so big. the more dakar seems to build (a new mall in 2010 for example) the more it seems that the villages get left behind. it's hard to take it in (is it just the way development goes? where is the money coming from? who is getting the money? why does over half the population still not have electricity and running water? why does the president need yet another house?)you get torn.
on the one hand i love dakar and everything it gives pcvs from food to company to a break from the stresses of the village and being in another country. but after looking out into the ocean i began to picture my river; the kids playing in it, the women doing their laundry, boats crossing and going to the fields, my dad bringing his horse down to water, maybe nessie in the background, and have realized that diambo and "the village" is senegal for me and that dakar really is a different country. one that i'm glad to visit from time to time but always happier to leave and head back up north.
cheers!
jaime
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