I'm back

I'm back in Dakar after being away for about a year and a half. I work for Chez Alpha Books, an English Language Service organization. I teach English and do publicity for the organization. Since the office is in a residential neighborhood, advertisement is essential to obtaining clients, so I do a lot of work on the ground. Additionally, Chez Alpha has a library and a bookstore, which I help organize. I work with Awa, the executive assistant, who does a ton of work. She is incredibly kind and knowledgeable. Fortunately we work well together since we spend all day side-by-side strategizing. I will be at Chez Alpha until January 2009.

I have made friends with the people in the neighborhood. Apparently several men have asked Awa whether I am married because they are interested. One of them, the boutique owner, who already has a wife, speaks a little English and uses it to try to reel me in. Another man, a construction worker did not mince his words when he told me that he wanted an American wife so that she could support him so he wouldn’t have to work. He asked me if I was interested and then asked me my name. All this is in jest; no one actually believes I will agree, it’s a way of being friendly. My attitude this time around is to approach everything with a good sense of humor.

The only time my patience began to wear thin was when I went to the post office to mail my absentee ballot. First, it was half a million degrees in the post office. Second, there were half a million people in a small stuffy room. People were lined up in intersecting lines that made no sense, which allowed for people to cut the line and ask their questions. It smelled terrible. The woman next to me who swore she was in front of me had tissue pieces stuck to her face from profusely wiping sweat from her face. After an hour, yes an hour, a woman behind the counter, who had been on the phone and reading her newspaper, gestured for me to approach her window. She took my letter and placed a stamp on it. I paid and then stuck it in a mailbox. That transaction took less than a minute. I was furious, hot, and sweaty. Oh well. I’m glad that’s the only thing that’s been troublesome.

I have noticed that more people, specifically women and young children, sleeping on the streets. It tears my heart apart to see little children lying on cardboard boxes on the busy sidewalk as if it was a quiet bedroom. The first time I witnessed it at night, when it’s tenfold worse than during the day, I cried pitiful tears of helplessness. I questioned why I am here and what I am doing, since it’s not doing anything to alleviate poverty. I had to tell myself that I am gaining skills and experience I need to be able to land jobs that actually help people. Abject poverty is alive and thriving in Dakar. Apparently, the economic crisis will affect Africa much worse than anywhere else in the world. I can’t imagine what that is going to look like.
I will try to post blogs as often as possible; however, there have been serious power outages as of late, lasting hours at a time, making the general working environment difficult. I hope that they will subside in November when it gets cooler.