Dakar: Part II -- We're Basically Sengalese

By Chris

The next morning, we said goodbye to our delightful basement apartment and hello to our 5-star oontz-oontz (flash debate: oontz-oontz or untz-untz) hotel. On the way there, we passed the Venice Beach of Dakar. It makes total sense; nearly everyone we met seemed very fit and athletic.

Once we arrived, we immediately identified that the hotel (and the people occupying it) were far too glamorous for us. Nonetheless, we persisted.

After checking in, we headed out to a Senegalese restaurant, where we split a shrimp curry. I also ordered bissap, which is a juice made from hibiscus flowers. I'm so in love that I'll be trying to grow hibiscus at home. It's also supposedly really healthy for you. The curry was good, but it doesn't stand up against Amma's (my mother-in-law's, and yes, I know, African and South Asian curries are very different).

We then went to the African Renaissance Monument (shoutout to my colleague John for suggesting it). It's HUGE--the largest monument in Africa. It's also pretty universally deplored. Designed by a Romanian and built by North Koreans at a cost of $28 million, the statue has been panned by art critics for not depicting African bodies, by the religious because it shows half-naked torsos, and by the locals (and many other Africans) because its outstretched finger points directly at the Statue of Liberty, basically selling out any African Renaissance as nothing more than a nod to the West. And the kicker: the former President at the time claims intellectual property rights over its design, and thus collects royalties for all its visitors. 

The rest of the day was spent in recoup mode. We sat by the beachside pool, ate french fries and pizza, then watched a few hours of Season 2 of the Crown. Yes, we sold out. But, the hotel didn't really offer "local options" for cuisine (except more bissap). 

The next day, we're off to the Sandaga market. When I asked the hotel desk person how much it should cost to get there, she asked if I was Senegalese. She was totally shocked we knew what it was, which makes perfect sense when you look at the hotel's clientele. Anyway, we went, haggled, and purchased. 

We searched out one restaurant near the market, mainly because it offered a good price:TripAdvisor rating proposition. I should note that while we enjoyed all the food we had to date, it still didn't feel quite so real. Well, the place we went to was closed (it was Sunday and New Year's Eve, after all), but the restaurant next door was open.

This place was legit. The flies had to be swatted away--a sign of fresh food. I had Mafe, a thick peanut sauce chicken and rice dish, and Nasheed had soupe kandia, which is basically Senegalese gumbo. When we went to pay, I handed over my credit card, having checked before we sat down that they took credit card. Looks like something was lost in translation, because they didn't. And I didn't have enough local currency (nor did I have an ATM card, per Nasheed's last post). We managed our way out with the U.S. Dollar. 

After we left, we walked to a currency exchange, then down to the ferry to go to Goree Island, which holds the House of Slaves, where a large number of slaves were shipped off to the Americas (the actual number is widely disputed amongst historians). 

Here's a good time for a detour on our impressions of the Senegalese. Our tour guide told us that the national identity is built around "Teranaga," which means hospitality. We don't doubt it for a second. Everyone we met was incredibly warm, helpful, and friendly. I've been to a number of countries where the salespeople are bombarding you to sell their goods at rapid fire pace. This wasn't that. Yes, people often had an agenda. But many times, help (a la directions, or even taking us somewhere) was given without any request for a tip. And even for people who were trying to sell us goods, when we made our disinterest quite well known, they would stay and just talk to us about their country and about our experience. Most of all, what stood out was the thanks heaped upon us as Americans for visiting their country when we have so many options.  

Back to Goree. The island itself was small and beautiful; we walked around the whole thing in only a couple of hours. There was a great community of artists there painting as we climbed the hill. Someday, we will have to go back and get a local painting of a baobob tree (i.e., the big tree from the Lion King). The island was a bit more touristy, and the locals here were a bit more aggressive (kind of like the Bahamas), which made sense - since a bunch of cruises offer excursions there. 

After our trip, we went back to the hotel, which was decorated for a serious party (tickets were $150 USD/person). Our plan had been to watch the fireworks, but the day before, we had been told there wouldn't be any. A bit tired and aware we had to wake up at 4:00 AM for our flight out of Senegal, we watched another episode of the Crown and went to bed around 11. I slept soundly, but apparently at 11:45, Nasheed heard a ton of fireworks going off. Oops. 

Finally, we got up in the early morning, took our belongings to the Dakar airport, and started on our 21-hour trip to Dhaka. Thanks to the wonder of credit card points and my generally obsessive points hobbying, these flights were booked at only 25,000 points in Turkish Airlines business class (a steal). I've never flown business class so this was a treat--although more so because we could spend our 7-hour layover in the fanciest airport lounge I've ever seen. But when we first arrived, we got to meet up with Nasheed's brother, who was flying through Istanbul on his way to Munich. (The only reason he is flying to Munich instead of joining us in Bangladesh is because his points redemption value on Turkish Airline for a trip to Munich was far superior than a trip to Dhaka. #Respect.)

Next stop: Dhaka, Bangladesh, the motherland of the mother of Mother (if I were Mike Pence and referred to my wife as Mother).