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!