I spent all day today wrapping up loose ends . Visited all my old professors at the Baobab center in the morning, and spent the coffee break with other students at the center who I've known since I arrived. I spent the lunch hours wandering around downtown taking pictures of everything I was too afraid to take pictures of before. Senegalese people in the streets do not take nicely to people snapping pictures everywhere. Usually when a camera is taken out, some Senegalese person will tell you (not very nicely) that you can't take pictures, or they'll demand money from you if they think they're in that picture. But, I decided it was worth the risk, as I had hardly any pictures of downtown. And it actually went quite well. I only had one person say "Hey! You just took a picture of me!" But, I simply pointed out that I had taken a picture of the shoes he was standing next to and not him. He then responded with, "Well, do you want a picture of me?" So it all worked out well. The one thing that didn't go well at first though, of course, was that I instantly looked like a tourist. So a few guys came up to me trying to talk and telling me that they would take me to their shop. I was not very nice to them, as I was full of different emotions about leaving, and they were being ridiculously persistent. Finally, after I got the third one to go away, the Senegalese man walking in front of me on the street turned around and said, "Aren't they annoying? They just don't get it. You can have white skin, and live in this city, and not be a tourist. But they just don't understand. They see white, and they think tourist and money. And of course, he doesn't have a shop. He has a cousin who has a cousin who has a cousin who owns a shop somewhere far from here. Because of course the owners of the shops never actually leave the shop." He was quickly my favorite person of the day. Because he understood my situation quite well and empathized with me. We continued to make small talk for about another block, and then wished each other a good day. I was able to take pictures of all sorts of vendors on the streets, and even in the busiest market without being hassled (which is absolutely unheard of). It was wonderful.
I stopped by to see some friends of mine who live downtown and say goodbye, then caught a cab back to the house of my old host family in Baobab. I spent about an hour with those who were home, and then went back to the apartment to take a nap and finish packing. Since a nap was impossible, I simply finished packing. Then headed to the supermarket where another friend of mine works, and hung out with him for a little bit and said goodbye.
Then headed back downtown to meet my friend Anna at one of my favorite restaurants on the coast. I had only been there once before (it is ridiculously expensive), but it was the perfect place to watch the sunset my last night in Dakar. It's a restaurant on a dock that jets out over the ocean. The waiter pulled two chairs for us to the edge of the dock, and we sat there and chatted while the sun went down.
I then headed back to Baobab to spend more time with my host family. I ate dinner there. And with all luck, they happened to serve my least favorite dish… liver and onions with overcooked spaghetti noodles and a side of white bread. But I could only laugh about it, and ate what I could. The family was truly wonderful, and it was very difficult to say goodbye to them. They gave me a present of a pang (a piece of fabric that Senegalese women use often as a wrap skirt around the house) that was an aqua blue with fish, seahorses, and seashells on it. My host mom said it was because I like the ocean so much. I went to visit the son of my Rotary Host Counselor as well, since he lives around the corner, and said goodbye to him. He was so helpful in making me feel right at home in Senegal when I first arrived, my transition would have been much more difficult without the help of him and his friends.
I went back to the apartment where I was staying, took a shower and packed up the rest of my things. Around midnight, I went to say goodbye to a few more friends and go on my last scooter ride in the city. At 2am, I headed back home and changed while a friend of mine got me a taxi for the airport. My friend somehow managed to find the oldest running vehicle in Dakar to take me to the airport. The headlights didn’t work, so the taxi driver (who could not possibly have been nicer) crawled to the airport, the trip took 3 times as long as it should have. Which made me nervous, because I was already running late to the airport. But all was fine, I made it in and onto my flight in time.
No comments:
Post a Comment