Namalawoon, Senegal.

Hello from Dakar!

A little Wolof lesson since it's now the language of choice :)

Namalawoon (the blog post title) = I missed you.

And although here's it's talking about Senegal, it also applies to you all - my friends and family who give me the support to go on these crazy adventures across oceans and time zones.

And so onto the meaty piece of this introductory post...

I arrived yesterday after approximately 14 hours of travel. As always, the best laid plans…

After cramming in as many friends, family, and American foods as possible into my week in Minneapolis, I frantically tried to pack and reassemble my dad’s house to as close to normal as possible. Unfortunately, there’s still probably evidence of Hurricane Elke after I’ve left.

Hey Dad! This way you’ll have a constant reminder of me while I’m gone – whenever you trip over a pair of shoes, can’t find the scissors, or find hairties under the couch…

Somehow, despite carefully planning on my part but waylaid by procrastination and inconvenient Dakota County Fair Ground lunch hours, I got to the airport just as they were boarding for the MSP-JFK flight.

However…

Surprise! We then sat for 60-75 minutes on the tarmac. Mechanical issue? Safety concerns? Still not clear. Luckily, I still had 90 minutes in JFK to send a few last calls home and grad some grub (salad, smoothie, and dark chocolate - yum!).

The plane ride from JFK to Dakar was like dipping your toes in the pool before jumping in – giving me a taste of what was waiting for me across the Atlantic. After the beverage cart came by, a woman retied her headscarf, shaking out the wrinkles from the light fushia fabric speckled with sequins. My movie (Brave) was interrupted by fits of giggles as two little girls that reminded me my sister and me as kids tried to braid each other’s hair in cornrows – although it seemed to be more snarls than braids. As I struggled to fall asleep, an older gentleman was whispering prayers amongst the chaos as he rubbed his prayer beads across the aisle.

With the overhead lights dimmed, and the majority of the passengers sleeping, these little scenes seemed idyllic. Although they brought back memories of my time in Senegal before, they didn’t prepare me for the chaos of Dakar once I landed.

As soon as I got off the plane, it was definitely jumping into the deep end. But this wasn’t a pristine pool of chlorinated water, this was a pool of contrasting sights, tastes and sounds. The dust swirled around the colorful fabrics in the clothing. Taxis rushed away from the airport, only to have to wait for goats to cross the road. It was the modern and the traditional that exemplify the character of Dakar and of Senegal.

And so, while Dakar has definitely changed – I bought the same phone as before, but now it comes with an extra game! And taxi prices have definitely increased with the high gas prices. – Senegal is still the same country that I somehow fell in love with two years ago.