Okay, and my 8 days in Senegal are quickly coming to a close. Unbelieveable how time flies. Though 8 days, really is not much time at all. So a few things to add from my last entry. While I talked about the improvement of their road system, which I think has to be a good thing for the country, my friend Malick told me that in fact those roads were contructed by the Chinese. The Senegalese government, under former president Abdoulaye Wade, brought in Chinese work crews to do the work because it was cheaper than paying their own citizens. This is an 'affair bu graw' as we say here, a grave matter, really unbelievable (and unacceptable) in my opinion. In the States we talk about construction projects as a great way to create work while making the States a better place to do business etc. I believe in the government creating jobs, especially those that enhance the infrastructure, but here it seems Wade missed a major opportunity. He also spent millions (yes I believe millions is accurate) of public dollars to build the giant statue that you've probably seen on the internet somewhere. (He then personally keeps a cut of the admission price because the statue was his idea, he says.) I'll post photos when I'm back in the states. You can see this giant statue of a man holding his baby and his wife standing next to him looking out to the west from anywhere in the city it seems to me. And this too was constructed by the Chinese. Capitalism, again, you prove to create problems and unjust situations. And on top of it all, the statue is built above a neighborhood that frequently doesn't have electricity and is very poor. And yet the statue is lit 24hours/day. It's really unbelievable. I wanted to add on to my last description of the roads here. I think the roads are really where you can see a country in transition. Taxis (almost all with cracked windshields and loud, throttling engines you can hear from quite a distance), blue and yellow car rapides, white Ndiang Ndiayes that hold 40+ people, bikes, motorcycles, and horse-drawn carriages, all share the same roads. There are also new buses. I haven't been in one, but they look very nice, much like Chicago's CTA buses, I'd say. Additionally, Wade passed a law that says cars older than 5 years cannot be brought into the country, so there are some newer cabs as well. The new president Macky Sall says he will change the law to 10 years. I've also noticed many more banks here than I remember seeing in Dakar, most of them have ATM machines, which existed before, but were not a huge presence. I went to a dance on Saturday night. Siblings of my friend Vince (who passed away in Feb. 2010 after an auto accident) hosted the xawaree (house party essentially) at their house. It was crazy to be in his courtyard again. That place is filled with so many memories; Vince would make tea there every night at 10pm and the whole group of friends would congregate there. I'd sit and drink the 3 cups of tea they offered me and listen to them speak in Wolof for hours, only understanding a little bit of what they said. I was accutely aware of how things have changed now in the group of people I call my friends. I saw many of the people I used to know at the dance. It was good to see them. I see, though, that we are all more grown up now. Most of my friends have found work. The carefreeness of our early 20s is no longer present. I feel a great sadness as I come to terms with this reality. I miss the old days of little responsibility. And dancing forever. But I guess this is life. Perhaps the next time I return some of us will be married, and that too will change things. Coming back to Senegal after 5 years allows me to measure how things have changed in a way I cannot see when I'm in the States where they gradually change day by day. I don't like getting older. And here's a description of what I saw on my way to the computer center: Walking here I ran into two guys I know from my neighborhood Mermoz. The first was standing drinking Cafe Touba, the special delicious spiced coffee they sell here. He offered me some to drink and I accepted. I stopped by the tailor who's finishing the work I commissioned, passed by a boutique to get the number of an old friend that I haven't seen yet. The vendor there knows him well and gave me Assane's number. Finally, as I approached the main road, I ran into another guy I know and we made small talk until we parted ways. He was going downtown to buy t-shirts that he then sells in the neighborhood for a small profit. I continued on my way down the main road, Rue Cheikh Anta Diop, dipping up and down on their new sidewalks that are more handicap accessible, but at times still drop off into piles of sand and crumbled cement. I passed people hawking sunglasses, phone credits, beauty products and jewelry. There were welders making fences alond the sidewalk and basket weavers. New buildings under construction as there is growth every where! Women set up small shacks and sell lunch for approximately $1. Little boutiques in large metal containers (old shipping containers maybe?) sell an array of goods, everything you could ever want -- a $.20 knife, a lufa sponge, vache qui rit cheese, Coke with sugar (not corn syrup), cookies, canned goods, dried milk, sugar, tea... Others sell fruit under big colorful umbrellas. Mangoes sell for $1.20/kilo these days. Taxis honk to indicate they're free. Blue plumes of smoke escape the tailpipes of passing vehicles. Goats and sheep wander about. Beautifully decorated yellow and blue car rapides pack people like sardines, then fill up at the gas station with the engine still running. The call to prayer sounds from the minaret. Men are in pants and t-shirts, traditional garbs, soiled work clothes. Women wear traditional and contemporary clothes in vibrant colors, huge scarfs wrapped around their heads. This is the Senegal I love so much. I can't wait to come back again! Thank you to everyone that welcomed me back with open arms. I am more grateful than I can express and I'll miss you more than you know it. Now I'm off to experience South Africa and see my family.

Tout à changé, tout est pareil.

Everything has changed, everything is the same. I'm back in Senegal after 4 years away. It's incredible to be back. I'm here for a week, then off to South Africa for a Gelder Family Vacation. I cannot come to the African continent without seeing my friends and host families in Senegal. So I have 8 days here and then I leave again, unsure of when will be the next time I'm back, but it's certain I will return again, Inchallah. I've been overwhelmed with memories triggered by my senses. The sight of the ocean, the city-scape, of beautifully painted car rapides packed with people and the apprenti hanging off the back announcing the route and recruiting riders, clothes drying on the line. The feeling of the sun, of constant sweat. The tastes of traditional food and tea. The sounds of Wolof, honking cars, spoons scraping communal eating bowls, vendors everywhere hawking goods, people calling out to the whitey on the street, the call to prayer five times a day. And the smells that have brought back the strongest memories. Amazing how the brain works. The smell of charcoal used to cook food, burn incense, make tea -- when I smell it, I know I am here in Senegal. All the smells here are so comforting and familiar. Senegal has changed. The road system is much better than before. (Perhaps the only positive legacy of the former president, Abdoulaye Wade.) There are round-a-bouts to help manage the flow of traffic (though good luck to the pedestrian that needs to get across), the roads are paved and smooth, I even rode on a tollway! They are moving the airport to an hour outside of Dakar. I think this will enhance the development of the interior of the country, though it may hurt tourism to Dakar. Ah, but who am I to say? I'm no expert on these manners. The sidewalks are better in Dakar, it appears more handicap accessible, though a steep grade creates for a funny experience walking down the road, quickly dipping up and down and up again. There are fewer child beggars (talibes) than I remember. Senegal is modernizing they say. But I talk with my friend Malick, who writes and performs about the daily life here in Senegal in the quickly-growing Slam Poetry scene. He does workshops with youth to teach them how to write and perform and he pointedly tells me that these workshops are even more important now because the youth sense that no one listens to them any more. As Senegal has "occidentalized," the parents work longer days and are too tired to pay much attention to the children when they return home. A familiar story from the States it seems. Malick points out what a problem this is. An unintended consequence of development. Or is it intended by those that profit from the system? It leaves me wondering how can a place, a society improve the quality of life for its inhabitants without destroying its social fabric, especially one that supports strong family values? (And here I mean family values in the best of ways, not the way the right has commandeered that term.) In my humble opinion, the emphasis Senegalese culture places on spending time with family and friends is one of the best parts of this country. It was such a refreshing change of place from the States and one that encouraged me to move back to Chicago to be close to my own family. And now it seems that as Senegal is becoming more like the West, it's changing. Really, how can we live full lives with jobs that pay a living wage so we don't work ourselves to death trying to support our families that we never have time to see anyway because of the need to make money. Everywhere is a struggle. Or at least capitalist societies seem to be a struggle. Senegal has changed in other ways too. My social experience is different from how it used to be. Some of my friends have gone to the States to study, a few have passed away, others work or piece together different jobs at least. I can't go and find my friends for tea at 10pm anymore. And fewer of them are sitting in the shade as I pass through the neighborhood. I was nervous about this, but it's fine. It's good that all of us are moving on with our lives. I too am different. We're not kids anymore. But, I began this entry by saying everyting is the same. Yellow cabs play bumper cars putting passengers lives at risk and they play a game of chicken with moving objects smaller than their car (read: pedestrians and motorcycles and the few brave bikers). People can't help but talk about body types. Everyone asks me if I'm sick because I've lost weight since they saw me. They ask me, "What happened to you!? You used to be a big woman but now you have nothing." I have fallen back into similar routines, being open to conversation with strangers, stopping to greet people sitting on the sidewalk, walking forever under the hot sun, getting on car rapides, bargaining at the market in Wolof, buying fabric and bringing it to the tailor, sneezing constantly from all the pollution, seeing live music at the club Just 4 U, taking cold showers, catching a glimpse of the stars on our rooftop, eating mango after mango after mango. I miss this life, I really do. But there is much that is so hard about it. It is frustrating to be exotic. It is difficult and humbling to recognize all the privilege I have. To be able to come back here. To be on vacation when everyone around me works so hard or would give anything to have a job. But I love the culture, and I love the food, and the people I know. I love the pace (especially when I'm here on vacation). I think it's better to be here with something to do though, as Dakar isn't great for tourism. I think I could spend another year here. I don't think I could live here forever. Who knows what the future will bring, but I do know I will continue to come back to this place. And in the mean time, I must take advantage of my 4 remaining days here. I'm off to Marche Sandaga!