Like Sands Through the Hourglass…

Watch and listen: the unmistakable sights and soundtrack of a typical journey in local transportation.

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With each passing day, we’re getting closer and closer to Sudden Death Overtime: March 18th- the date for second round voting for the presidency of Senegal.

While the elections are infinitely more interesting, each passing day also connotes something significant from a personal standpoint. My time in Senegal is growing short, and I know that in a few short months I will be opening my front door and letting movers in to box up my stuff. In my line of work this is something that is always to be expected, but I’ve got to say that even after 12 years of doing this, it has never gotten any easier. In fact, it might actually be getting harder.
You’ll have to forgive me if I am growing prematurely nostalgic, but my movement around  Dakar over the past couple of weeks has really shown me how far this city has come in such a relatively short span of time. Here’s a tiny bit of what I’m talking about:

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On one side of the road you’ve got the fanciest kitchen store that I have ever laid my eyes upon…

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…while directly across the street you have les petits commerçants offering wares (and household furnishings) that are closer in reach to your average shopper. This planet is a world of startling disparity.

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This preschool has always been here, but I don’t think I’ve ever posted a photo in my blog. It makes me laugh, and it’s one of those random things that make living over here so entertaining. If only I had captured a snapshot of the guy walking by with a sewing machine on his head. I’m not kidding.

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When I got to Dakar, the limited number of non-functioning street lights (clearly a relic of the Diouf a bygone era) were a source of amusement. Over the past year, green shoots of renewal have revealed themselves in the form of fresh (and some even functioning!) traffic lights. I’m still having trouble paying heed to those that function in Plateau.

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And speaking of green shoots, after your eyes finally grow accustomed to the overarching sand and concrete colors of this city, you do start to notice the coinciding beauty that is often overlooked. Over the past two years, sometimes I think it’s more likely me who has changed, and not so much Dakar. Probably.
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And behold the mighty Radisson Blu and Sea Plaza Shopping Center. You walk inside the places and think “I am no longer in Dakar.”  I don’t have much need to frequent either of these hip spots- but I probably should take a trip and photograph the mall- just to show you modern the space really is. It’s way nicer than the Cape Cod Mall- I can assure you.

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After snapping the above photo of the Radisson Blu, I promptly turned ninety degrees and took this photo. Dakar without a doubt is a city balanced carefully between two worlds, and you can feel it tipping swiftly towards modernization. We’re see dilapidated structures being cleared away as room is made for newer and more profitable enterprise.

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I often wonder what the corniche will look like in ten years, and immediately after I imagine the view I draw comparisons to Kalakaua Ave. They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.

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Despite all of the change, at the end of a day’s journey you’re still relegated to the same ritual: you step through your front door and dump the sand out of your shoes. I’m long-since used to this practice (and for those of you who want to call my plumber- no, I don’t wash the sand down the drain). No matter how much Dakar builds itself up, this peninsula will always be seen first and foremost as a big ole sandbar. We’ll be emptying our shoes for decades to come.

Life in Dakar does not seem to operate in a linear fashion- and indeed right now I feel as though I was just yesterday sitting in mid-2010 and wondering how I was ever going to last another two years in this often maddening city. I don’t feel that way anymore, and I am going to do my best to enjoy every moment of idiosyncrasy before I shove off for good. Sooner rather than later my shoes will be walking on non-skid surfaces again.

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