wigs, fakes, and gas

As I have previously mentioned, I encounter what I consider “absurdities” on a regular basis. Recently, meaning within the past two days, I have experienced three gems.

The first was during a serious conversation I had with someone I hired for the opening of the cultural center I now work for. We were sitting in her living room talking when she stood up to get a piece of paper. As she stood, she left the wig that she had been wearing on the chair where her head had been. First, what made the situation awkward was that I wasn’t sure if she knew that she was no longer wearing her wig. I had no idea how to handle the situation and I am not sure Mrs. Manners would know either. I decided, in true Senegalese form, to ignore it and let her realize her lack of hairpiece on her own. Second, what was also astounding was how she looked sans wig. I know this woman very well and realized that I have never seen her real hair. It was shocking.

The second event took place at the only “cinema” in Dakar. I use quotation marks because the cinema is also an overpriced restaurant and they get their films from dubious sources. Otman and I went there for the first time to see “Entre les Murs” or “The Class” as it is called in English. My mom recommended the film and I was happy to see that it was playing in Dakar. However, we never got to see the film because the cinema had downloaded a copy of the film from the internet that repeats a ten-minute segment for about two hours. I spoke to the projectionist who admitted to have downloaded the film (it’s not illegal in Senegal) and to have neglected to check its quality. Although, Otman and I got a free drink out of it, I am disappointed that I have not been able to watch this movie.

The last absurd event happened on route home from the movie when Otman needed to put gas in his scooter. At the gas station, we were alerted to the fact that gas pump for the kind of gas Otman gets, a mix of petrol and oil, had a problem. The clever men at the gas station solved the problem by putting the mix into old one-liter juice containers. Using a crude funnel made of a plastic soda bottle, the man filled the tanks one juice container at a time. The process was messy but effective.

These are some of the reasons why I enjoy living in Dakar. These types of events happen often and keep me on my toes and keep me laughing.