The Arrival

On August 20^th I devoured what will probably be my last plate of blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup I’ll eat in four months (this is a meal that ranks somewhere around #3 on my favorite meals list.) Shortly thereafter my family dropped me off at the MSP airport. I said a final farewell, left all the “inexperienced travelers” in my dust as I sped through the “experienced travelers” line (which, for some reason, NO ONE ever takes,) was deemed a person of suspicion and was frisked, scanned, and hand sampled, and finally took off on Delta 2038.

An extra 4.5-hour layover at JFK and 8-hour flight to Dakar later, I arrived in Dakar. After waiting in the typically roasting, sticky weather for everyone to arrive, we were all bussed over to the hotel we are staying at for the first week. A quick breakfast and shower were first on my agenda, followed by a long nap in the luxurious air conditioning.

Glorious sleep left me feeling much more refreshed and capable of taking in my surroundings, so I’ll give you a rundown of first impressions: Dakar is a very interesting city. Simple, pastel-painted buildings and unfinished concrete apartments rise out of the hot, dusty ground. Busy highways and roads are full of dingy taxis and slick SUVs that honk relentlessly at each other and at the pedestrians, who, lacking any stoplights, identify how much time they have to run across the street without getting hit and make a mad dash for the other side of the street - unless one of the drivers takes pity, slowing down long enough that they can reduce their run to a jog.

The Senegalese are as diverse as their cars, displaying a variety of wealth and dress. Colorful boubous walk alongside designer jeans and Armani tees; goats and horses mingle with the construction workers and peddlers.  Trash is everywhere, (I’ve yet to see a single garbage can, and the recycling system consists of handing old bottles to urchin children who in turn hand them in for a few cents,) but establishments are generally well-kept. As a somewhat short, undeniably pasty white “toubab,” it’s impossible to even attempt to be discreet, and everywhere I go I draw attention and jokes. However it’s all good-natured, and so far the Senegalese people have been a very happy and welcoming bunch.

So all that’s what I’ve gleaned from the past couple of days here, between orientation classes, Wolof (Senegal’s street language) survival courses, meeting new people, eating new foods and wondering how the Senegalese manage not to sweat. This weekend I’ll move in with my host family; Monday is the beginning of classes. I am probably more excited about meeting my family than any other part of this program, and will definitely recount how that all goes.

But meanwhile, I’m going to conclude my first post. Ba beneen yoon!