The people in my neighborhood

A block from my apartment building is this intersection. I'm standing in front of the local restaurant, Le Regal, near where the taxis park, across the street from the ATM machine where I get local currency from my Cambridge account. I'm paid in dollars, direct deposit to my Cambridge bank. It is amazing how some things circulate globe, while others things are so difficult to transfer, move across boundaries or to translate.

I love the colorful buses, with people hanging out the back. I am often surprised that every taxi ride has gotten me where I am going. The cabs are in such bad shape; the doors barely close, the windshields are so covered with cracks that you can barely see out of them. They spew black smoke out the back and shock absorbers don't exist. Occasionally a newer cab, in good condition stops for me, and I find it harder to bargain the price down.



















The picture on the left is the local Starbucks--I see him every morning when I walk Parami. He walks around with the little coal heater and selling little cups of coffee to the security guards who sit out in front of all the buildings. Nearby is the laitrie (dairy) where they make fresh yogurt.
I've never bought meat at the meat store--when I walked by, I have to restrain Parami who is very interest!

On either side of the meat store are fruit and vegetable stalls. The fruit and vegetables are never combined. There are stalls at almost every corner through out the neighborhoods on the main streets. I always ask before taking any pictures. And so far everyone has been very willing. The "starbucks" guy even had me wait while he posed for me, pouring a cup. I happened to have my camera that morning, but he wasn't wearing his typical outfit, a very colorful shirt/tunic of wide stripes. I printed out the picture and gave it to him, saying that I would do another one when he had his other shirt on. I promised the same thing to the fruit and vegetable sellers--that I would give them the pictures I am talking.

As my French has improved, I have started using some Wolof, which I have picked up. Wolof is the most common language in Dakar, but there are six national languages in Senegal. Most people grow up speaking at least 3 languages--two indigenous languages and French. I have noticed how much friendlier people are when I greet them in Wolof--na nga def or thank them with jai-rruh-jef. And when saying goodby and see you tomorrow, you add "in sha' Allah" God willing.

Debra is holding Parami. Debra teaches 6th grade, and has a small dog of her own. We trade dog sitting, I have Raffi during the winter break. Debra is from Calgary, Canada and love the climate in Dakar. Randi and Tod, also 6th grade teacher, have the apt across the hall from me--their apt has a nice little balcony for sitting outside. This is their second year in Dakar and they took me under their wings when I first arrived--showing me around and including me in excursions. Parami adores Tod, every time we go next door, Parami charges in and runs around until he finds Tod and jumps up on his lap. Tod has signed up for a third year at ISD, however Randi says she is moving back to the states because her job as a nurse with the Peace Corps is coming to an end and she does not want to work as a nurse at any of the local hospitals. Tod loves diving at the beach nearby--he goes out almost weekend. He has gotten to know the divers and fishermen and their associations. He maintains his own blog, I don't know how he keeps up with as frequently as he does, he posts underwater video footage, which I love looking at. You can check it out at http://lariamdreams.blogspot.com.