Jerejef Senegal!

Thank you Senegal! Or, in Wolof (the language spoken predominantly throughout Senegal): Jerejef Waay Senegal!

After just over a week in Senegal we have much to be thankful for...

-The terenga (hospitality) that was shown to us by our hosts, especially those who granted us meetings throughout the week at various NGOs and government organizations

-The chance to have learned so much about the history, culture, economy, politics, health, environment and gender issues in Senegal

-The opportunity to see some incredible parts of the country: Saint Louis, Thies, a bird sanctuary... and in Dakar the vibrant Marche Sandaga and beautiful beaches near Yoff and Ngor

-Good food, like Ceebu Jen (rice and fish) and Yassa Poulet (chicken in onion sauce), and drink, like bissap (made from hibiscus) and flag (the local beer!)

-New friends, both Senegalese and American

Many of us hope to return... so its not goodbye just "ba beneen yoon en challah" (see you soon god willing)!

The Road Trip Home

So it figures that pretty much everything went smoothly in Senegal and it was only in the U.S. that we had major travel issues.  

The Dakar airport was chaotic, with uncooperative Delta representatives, invasive security screenings, endless lines, stray cats meowing everywhere, and the standard airport hassles, but at least we got on the plane on time.  The flight to Atlanta was bumpy, but we were all too tired to care.  When we reached at Atlanta we realized why our descent was so rough-- there was a winter storm in the area.  

Well, at least a 'storm' by Atlanta standards.  The 'storm' was apparently going to be bad, so the airline cancelled most of its flights out, including our flight to Detroit.  After waiting in line for ages we finally found out that the next flight they could put us on was on Tuesday afternoon.  And this was on Sunday morning.  With all the work we had waiting for us, and how exhausted we were, we decided that we couldn't afford a 2 day sojourn in Atlanta.  After debating our options and weighing costs, our intrepid IEDP board did some fast work and rented us a mini-fleet of cars to drive back to Ann Arbor.  After a quick lunch we headed out to get the cars.  To our surprise, it was actually storming out.  In Michigan people may have referred to it as a flurry, but my Georgia standards it was the blizzard of the century.  The snow was starting to accumulate when we left, wet, heavy snow.  By then end of it, 3 or 4 inches had fallen in Atlanta, totally paralyzing the city.  

Even though we were all pretty tired, the 12 hour drive home was (at least for some of us) energizing and fun.  There were 3 or 4 of us to a car, usually with people we didn't get to see much of during our time in Senegal.  Some cars passed the time with sing-alongs, others by re-enacting classic moments from the trip, others by counting the number of giant cement crosses and/or firework shops along the highway.  

After Senegal, Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio and Michigan seemed like foreign lands.  The Smokey Mountains were majestic, and the open plains of Ohio peaceful and calming, but not as beautiful as the gleaming white beaches of Dakar.  The neon lights of gas stations and fast food joints were a stark contrast to the cardboard signs of the stores and restaurants in Senegal.  The french fries and mini-pizzas we ate along the way were tasty, but not as delicious as roasted fresh fish and plantains.  Nonetheless, it was nice to be "in the heart of America" and ease back into our regular lives.  

Our fleet of cars rolled into Ann Arbor at various points between midnight and 3am, 12-15 hours after departing Atlanta, and a lifetime after leaving Senegal.   

Ile de Goree: Where French Colonialism meets Senegalese Culture

On our next-to-last day in Senegal our entire group took a 15 minute ferry ride to Ile de Goree, a small island just off the coast of Dakar. Goree Island is a big tourist attraction because of its history as a major slave-trading center, and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The Maison des Esclaves (House of Slaves) on the island has become a place of pilgrimage for everyone to reflect upon the horrors of the slave-trade and remember the millions of souls who died because of it.

As the ferry approached the beautiful island, approximately one kilometer in diameter, the bright sun shown down on the remains of the colorful colonial houses and garrison, with its rusted cannons on the right side, and a hill with narrow, winding cobblestone streets on the left. Right next to the dock was gorgeous white sand beach covered in sparkly sea glass.

We spent the afternoon wandering around the island, exploring the cobblestone alleys around the House of Slaves, learning the history of the Senegalese slave trade, and climbing to the top of the hill for a gorgeous view of Dakar. The island housed the most incredible representation of Senegalese artwork, varying from the more typical stylistic Senegalese stick figure paintings to elaborate paintings and collage on fabric. What was most impressive about this artwork was that the artists were right there to engage you in explaining the meaning of each painting or carving. The island's colonial history of slavery served as a strong source of emotions to draw from, and many of the paintings were imbued with symbols of lost identity and African heritage.
After an incredible group dinner in one of the old colonial buildings, our group departed on the ferry to return to Dakar, where the shimmering lights made us ask ourselves why we were leaving to go home so soon.

Bad Car Karma in Dakar

Transportation in the developing world is notoriously unreliable.  A few flat tires and breakdowns are to be expected.  We were prepared for this.  We were not prepared for the particularly bad car karma we suffered in Dakar.  

To take us around to our meetings we had hired two 14-passenger vans from a travel company for the week.  We assumed that the vans came with licensed drivers and the permits required of commercial vehicles.  This was a mistake.  During the first few days we were pulled over by the police a couple times and discovered that our drivers (and/or van) lacked the proper license to drive in Dakar.  Apparently there is a license to drive between cities and another to drive within cities.  A 1,000 CFA ($2) bribe to the cop usually cleared up this problem and we would move along.  

Things got more serious as the week went on.  One day we came out of a meeting at USAID only to discover that our driver was gone.  Tracking him down took 30 minutes, during which time we sat baking in the sun, sweating in our dress suits.  The next day we got pulled over twice within a few blocks and both times our driver was charged with not having the proper license to transport tourists.  Slightly larger bribes took care of these problems, but were still rather annoying.       

During the last few days our drivers became more wary and tried to avoid main roads, where cops would see our white, foreign faces and instantly think of dollar (or in this case, CFA) signs.  Although sticking to side streets was a good idea in theory, it was flawed in practice.  Our drivers, who we already knew were more familiar with the roads around Dakar than in Dakar, ended up just getting themselves lost.  One driver was winding his way through a small neighborhood when he realized that he missed his turn.  Instead of doing a U-turn he simply stopped the car in the middle of the rather busy road, threw the van in reverse and hit the gas.  Unfortunately there was a taxi not 3 feet behind us.  We've been debating how to describe this accident.  Did our driver "rear-end himself"? Did he "front-end someone"?  Either way, it was pretty funny, but also unnerving, since we didn't know if the taxi driver was going to freak out, and, seeing our white, foreign faces, demand a lot of money in compensation.  Luckily the taxi driver just stepped out of his car, shouted a few key expletives at our driver, checked out the damage on his car, decided it was minimal and went his merry way.  Thank god we hit a banged-up taxi and not a brand new BMW. 

To cap off the day, on our way home we were waiting at a red light when the traffic cop in the intersection decided that he needed to check us out.  Instead of telling us to pull over he insisted that we remain parked in the middle of the intersection.  Now, driving on a busy street in the developing world is dangerous enough, but sitting in the middle of a chaotic intersection is just asking for trouble.  After 5 or 10 minutes of getting honked at we pulled over to the side of the road and the cop came over.  For an indeterminate reason the cop confiscated our driver's license and insisted that he drop us off and then come back to collect it (i.e. pay to get it back) later.  We never found up if he did, or if he just decided that, given all his tickets and accidents, driving was just not the profession for him.

There were of course the standard mechanical problems, with one van breaking down on consecutive days.  The second time, as it was parked on along the road, waiting to be fixed, it had a boot put on it by the police.  Tracking the officer down and getting it removed took longer than the actually fixing of the van.  

Given that we were only driving around Dakar for 4.5 days, it seems like we had a disproportionately large number of transportation-related incidents.  Maybe next time we should travel by motorcycle.  After all, nothing bad can happen with that, right?  

Senegalese Teranga (i.e. Hospitality)

I couldn't help but notice the disparity between the Senegalese and American hospitality traditions while we were touring diverse offices in Dakar. When our group visited Senegalese-run offices like the Christian Children's Fund office in Thiès and at the Direction de l'Entreprenariat Feminin - part of the Senegalese Ministry for Family - we were automatically offered small snacks (groundnuts, croissants or brioche and coffee/tea) by smiling people. The reception at the local USAID office however stood in stark contrast to the hospitality shown by Senegalese officials: annoying security checks entering the premisces, escort/shadowing by USAID staff while in the building and most notably, a total lack of refreshments for our long meetings in a steaming office. One may argue that there is a rationale for the different treatment by claiming that the Senegalese offices we visited welcomed us gratefully because we were a U.S. group from which they may expect some positive fallout, but then is there no interest for USAID in welcoming a bunch of International Development students and scholars? I still wonder....

Meetings, Meetings, Meetings Everywhere

So with all the fun thing we've been telling you about, you may be saying to yourself, "did they actually DO anything educational/productive in Senegal?"  In fact, we did a lot of educational/productive things, mostly in the form of meetings.  A lot of meetings. 

Everyday our 6 policy groups would split into two larger groups and head off to different meetings with key policymakers or stakeholders.  Our meetings were grouped in "streams", with usually 3 meetings in each stream.  The groups in stream A  and stream B varied from day to day, depending on the schedule, which was a good chance for all of us to mingle and share interests.  Typically each group in the stream would have arranged one of the day's meetings and would take the lead in running it, but everyone was encourage to get involved and ask questions.  

Over the course of the week our groups met with representatives from large international organizations (the World Bank, UNDP, UNICEF, USAID, IOM), Senegalese government ministries (Environment, Gender and Family), local NGOs (Christian Children's Fund, Tostan), and embassies (France, Spain, US).  Each policy group had 4 or 5 meetings during the trip, which allowed them to hear multiple perspectives and get a deeper sense of the issues at stake.  

At all of our meetings our hosts were gracious, welcoming, and happy to answer our questions.  However we did notice that at the meetings with female, Senegalese representatives that we were much more likely to receive snacks and tea/coffee.  No such hospitality was present at USAID, where even asking to use the restroom seemed like a huge inconvenience.  But overall we could not have asked for more productive, useful meetings and kindness and support from our hosts.  

Now some highlights from meetings:

*Seeing the minister of a senegalese cabinet department dramatically entering the room in a flowing, black, high-collared cape, and then sitting silently in the corner throughout the meeting.

*Hearing another government official met Alan Deardorf (one of the professors on the trip) at the end of a meeting and saying "Deardorf? Alan Deardorf? My god, we use one of your economic models everyday! Its the centerpiece of our whole strategic plan! I wish I had met you earlier!"

 

*Eating chocolate croissants and exchanging stories from the field with the women of Christian Children's Fund in Theis, a small city outside Dakar.

*Being reminded repeatedly of President Wade's age (82) during a meeting with a member of another political party.  His words: "Did you know he is an octogenarian? An octogenarian!"

*Sitting in the conference room at the offices of the International Organization for Migration, staring out the window at its stunning view of the beach and cliffs, thinking "I want to migrate here."

*Finding out that an alum of the University of Michigan was working in the room above us at USAID. (Go Blue!)

*Discovering that the Senegal office of a large international organization spends almost its entire budget making maps unrelated to its subject area, then being shown (and later emailed) those maps by the office director. 

*Observing our French-speakers turn into professional translators.  They all have a future translating at the U.N.

*Watching Tony Chen (the other professor on the trip) try desperately to remember all 6 of our policy areas when doing introductions at meetings.  It was like watching someone try to remember all seven dwarves.  

  

Two quotes that still make me laugh....

Quote 1
Person A: "You didn't know we're going back home on a 10-day boat ride?"
Person B:*eyebrows raised*, "Oh really (pause)...I have to tell my wife."

Quote 2
(This one is hilarious for 2 reasons: 1) having toilet paper handy during this trip was important, but the rolls there are thin, and the more people use some...well they just seemed to never last 2) it was said during the ride back from St. Louis to Dakar which seemed like eternity, it just kept getting late and it seemed like we were never going to get there...)
Person on bus says: "Time is like a roll of toilet paper, the closer you are to the end, the faster it goes."

My Favorite Memory from Senegal

We had two members of our class who were from Senegal; one's sister had a baby the week before we arrived. When we arrived, the politics group was invited over for a naming ceremony. We missed the ceremony, but did get to spend the afternoon with the family.

We'd been in Senegal for three days by this time, but this was the first time I felt that I was finally IN Senegal. This beautiful young family invited us into their home, made sure we were comfortable, let us hold the beautiful baby, and fed us two tremendous dishes! The first, Lacht (?) was a milky porridge with millet, some fruit, and sugar. After three days of lots of rice and bread (which I love by the way) we couldn't eat enough of the sweet stuff. We thought that was lunch. And rightly so, because we were full.

But nope, there was another dish (the name of which I cannot for the life of me remember). Suffice it to say it included chicken, rice, vegetables, and some very nice spice. We sat on the floor in two groups of about 6 people each and ate from the same large dish. Some of the women had tried to bring in small tables for us to eat on, but the men insisted that we needed to eat like real Senegalese!

I was incredibly grateful that they allowed us to spend an afternoon with them on such an important occasion. Everyone was so warm and made us feel right at home, like we belonged to the family. The afternoon was a microcosm of my entire experience in Senegal - amazingly warm and kind people, wonderful food, lots of laughs, and very memorable.

Dakar: Center of French and West African Culture

Having studied French since the sixth grade, I somehow always managed to have French teachers or professors who were obsessed with Senegal. This was fine by me, as it meant an incredible amount of wonderful Senegalese music, poetry and art studied in my classes. Senegal, and Dakar in particular, has often been referred to as the center of West African or French African culture. Thus I was beyond excited at the opportunity to see and hear Senegalese art and music in person.

During our ten days in Senegal we managed to have two wonderful opportunities to listen to live music performed by famous Senegalese musicians. The first was a free concert by Cheikh Lo at a wonderful open-air club called Just For U. About half of the IEDP group was there to see his incredible performance. Cheikh Lo builds his music from Dakar's dominant pop sound, mbalax, but throws in elements of salsa, Zairean Congolese rumba, folk, and jazz. Lo's natty dreads and notable spirituality signify him as Baye Fall, a mystic brotherhood within the Mourides [the dominant sect of Senegalese Islam]. Listening to his raspy, yet soulful voice while enjoying a Flag beer and the warm breeze was a spectacular experience for us all.

The second concert was performed by Seun Kuti - the youngest son of the famous Nigerian afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti - held at the French Cultural Center on Friday night. A handful of us were able to make this concert after our afternoon and evening on Ile de Goree. The concert was aid to be amazing, with Seun Kuti proving to be as dynamic and energetic as expected.

Senegalese art, unlike music performances, came to us throughout our entire stay in Senegal. Street hawkers with Senegalese cloth, drums, masks, paintings and purses were always in sight if not walking next to you bargaining; markets were teeming with more of the same for tourists to fill up their second and third suitcase with. The ahrdest part for someone traveling to Africa for the first time was distinuishing what was made in Senegal and was considered "Senegalese" as opposed to brought in from Mali, Cameroon or Nigeria for instance.

The only thing we did not have a chance to see was some of the famous Senegalese dancing. At least I had been able to see the Senegalese musician Youssef N'Dour at the University of Michigan this past November and was able to watch a number of Senegalese dancers compete on stage.

Parc Djoudj: Our 1st Weekend

Not having spent much time in river deltas, let alone deltas that lying between desert and wanna-be desert, the day up at the bird sanctuary near the Senegal River was somewhat surreal. I had been to Saint Louis twice before, briefly, so of course I knew what I was talking about. I remembered the harmattan wind blow drying the back of my throat and glueing my contacts to my irises the last time I was there. I had peered into the distant sand and hot shimmer where someone had pointed towards Mauritania and shuddered. I'm from a deciduous, temperate climate, and I guess I liked humidity more than I realized.

So as we bounced along some game attempts at roads on our way to Parc Djoudj--the third largest bird reserve in the world--on the first Sunday morning, I was amazed to see the flooded plains of rice, grasses, and cattails. I knew that rice was grown here, but the sudden change in the landscape was hard to picture. Since we couldn't have been proceeding faster than 15 mph, the driver apparently had plenty of time to scan the roadside, spotting several reptiles sunning themselves at the edge of the flooded fields. We all pushed to one side of the bus to take pictures of pythons and monitor lizards.

Finally we arrived at the park. I had steeled myself for a blistering day, but the weather was cool and breezy as our herd separated into three boats to cross the lake and stir up bird life. There were hordes of pelicans, cormorants, and other smaller birds that darted down into our wake to scoop up tiny fish. Someone pointed excitedly to the edge of the lake, where there was some rustling in bushes, but then a zebu cow emerged and there was some audible disappointment that this wasn't followed by a surprise crocodile attack.

We did, in fact see a 5 foot crocodile, and if you check Facebook, there are 85 pictures to prove it.
The destination of the boat tour was apparently a colossal nesting ground of pelicans, which the guide didn't really explain.

We returned, spotting a bald, or at least balding eagle on the way, and then two necking pythons back at the dock. We rode back to Saint Louis and dug into couscous, yassa poulet, thiebudjenne, and several other Senegalese specialties before a long bus ride back to Dakar.

Reflections

Two of the major problems in Senegal: 1. It was colonized by the French. 2. It has another country inside it. Seriously, go check out a map of Senegal online. It's as if Virginia, North Carolina, West Virginia, Tennessee, and Kentucky were all a totally different country. It doesn't cause serious political problems, but seeing as how Gambia was a British colony and Senegal French, it must be very annoying to switch from the right side of the road to the left on the drive through. 

The northern part of Senegal tends to be arid or semi-arid - it is the Sahelian region, a dry area that separates the lush equatorial areas from the Sahara. The south is more lush and green. Peanuts are the main crop of the north, a leftover cash crop from colonial times. Rice is grown in the south. 

We spent our first two days visiting the northern city of St. Louis, the former capital of the French West African colonies. The most immediate thing one notices driving through the rural areas, of course, is the poverty. Senegal is quite 'lucky' among African nations in that it does not usually have to deal with extreme famine, only a chronic level of undernourishment and deprivation (sounds great, right?). The end result is that poverty in Senegal looks a bit like poverty in Mexico - dilapidated buildings (often right next to swanky hotels), goats in the street, beggars everywhere in the cities. Senegal is also fortunate not to have much civil unrest (apart from the 2008 food price riots) or ethnic conflict. 

Remarkably, part of what explains amiable relations among the country's many ethnic groups is their ability to poke fun at one another. As one Senegalese USAID officer told me, "I am Toucoleur. If I meet a Jola man in the street, and it is early in the day, I can say to him, 'oh, just my luck. The first person I see today and he is Jola. I can tell already that this is going to be a bad day." I experienced some other extremely humorous interactions with Senegalese folks, none of which - unfortunately - translate into writing. The Senegalese, being on the coast, have also historically had significant exposure to outside influence, and are known for their abilities as traders. You can see this in the streets of Dakar, where the two criteria for being accosted in the street by some guy trying to sell you stuff you don't need are: 1. Being white. 2. Leaving your hotel. They are by far the most persistent street hawkers I've ever seen. One guy followed a friend and I for an hour and a half. I eventually concluded that spending $10 on his crap was preferable to dealing with him for the rest of the day. He must have also known this, going in.

The street vendors sell not only touristy crap. They also sell every conceivable item that you could want in your home, and many that you do not. I saw street hawkers selling underwear, belts, watches, irons, coffee makers, clocks, Tupperware, alarm clocks, and sundry other household items. The sheer volume of goods being sold - and people selling them - is amazing. 

So why are there so dang many people in the informal sector of the economy? Briefly: 1. There is a perception that money is made in the city, not in the country. While it is true that the rural economy remains stagnant and many families expect their male family members to travel to Dakar to work and send remittances back to the village, it is often difficult to make it in the city. The cost of living is actually startlingly high for a developing country, and there is simply too much competition among the street hawkers. 2. Value added taxes are an absurd 18%, creating disincentive for anyone to set up an ordinary business. 3. Ditto labor laws. It's VERY difficult to fire anyone, and if you do, you'll probably have to pay a fee. This discourages both foreign and domestic investment, and we can all thank the French for that. Colonialism was really a lousy idea. 

Speaking of colonialism, many nonprofit organizations seem very keen on simply setting up shop in former colonial buildings, the message apparently being that THESE white people are here to help! Seriously, I find it infuriatingly insensitive that European nonprofits and international organizations do not seem to comprehend the symbolic error of living what is essentially a post-colonial expatriate lifestyle whilst working in colonial-era buildings. 

On the upside - French colonial history has endowed Senegal with a legacy of delicious bread and fine French cuisine. Senegalese food is excellent - especially the fish. The coasts also provide opportunities for fishermen to load up into tiny fishing boats and try to make their way to Spain and France. Unlike the Cuban counterparts, however, they usually have something to lose, as it can be quite costly to arrange the trip in the first place. They apparently prefer to travel to Spain, despite the obvious language impediment. Besides being closer, it's also considerably more lenient in its immigration policy. 

Part of the motivation to emigrate is poverty.  Everywhere you go you see children begging in the streets. They are known as the Talibe, and often they are a part of one of the main Muslim brotherhoods in the country. The Talibe are sent off to Islamic schools, and often end up being sent out by their 'headmasters' to go beg and return the proceeds to him. It's a pretty lousy deal. Although they chase down white people, they also chase down affluent-looking Senegalese, who are obligated by Islamic law to give alms.

In sum, Senegal is a complex, diverse country.  Its impossible to experience all the country has to offer in a week, but I know that I gained a much greater understanding of the country's, and indeed the region's, complexities during our short time there.  It makes me want to return and experience more.  

Welcome (Back) to Africa

Stepping off the plane and down the shaky metal staircase, the first cool caress of Senegalese breeze met my damp face. It was colder than I had expected, and urged me towards the doorway leading into the airport - as if to say that the 9-day countdown had started already and there wasn't a moment to lose in experiencing all that Senegal had to offer.

I had not anticipated that my return to West Africa, almost 6 months to the day since I had left Ghana, would invoke such a powerful olfactory recognition. But as I walked through those airport doors and into the buzzing neon yellow lights of the baggage claim I found myself inhaling a deeply a familiar, comforting scent. It was a detoxifying blend of earth, aging and well-worn furniture, and plain, fresh soap.

I found my stiff muscles suddenly relax along with my mind as the aroma transported them both to the doorway of the barn in Montana where I rode Arabian horses for 9 years. That barn in the Bitterroot Valley has such a similar smell: horse hair, saddle soap and wooden stalls made smooth from decades of use by horse and rider.

I realized at this moment that traveling in parts of the world far away from my own instills in me the same feelings of being complete and at peace, free and weightless, that I have every time I ride.

It is amazing how the sense of smell can bridge two different worlds and simultaneoulsy make a country in West Africa feel like home in Montana. Coming back to Africa was like coming back home.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

(For those of you not familiar with IEDP, learn more at http://www.umich.edu/~ipolicy/iedp.htm)


Its 7am the morning we leave for Senegal. In Ann Arbor it feels like 0 degrees outside (according to weather.com) but in Dakar its sunny and 70, and so the prospect of nice weather is getting us even more excited about going.

We are only going to be in Senegal for 8 days, but we've got a lot planned for that time: meetings with stakeholders in various policy fields, trips around Dakar, cultural events, an excursion to St. Louis. This packed schedule is a little daunting, but we want to make the most of our short time there. It's going to be a great trip.

Now its time for us to head to the airport, so we'll post again from Dakar.

Senegal should watch out-- IEDP is on its way!