Discotheques and being politically correct

Writing a blog is sort of a blessing and a curse, its nice (I would imagine) for others to read, but at the same time, as my life gets filled with work, fieldtrips, adventures, etc. I find it difficult to update my blog. Anyways, I digress...

Back in Dakar again, this time for a soirée, an all night party at the discotheques in Dakar. Soirées are pretty big here, its basically just the same thing as clubbing the U.S., except people don't start until much later, usually around 1-2 in the morning and end sometime around 5-6 a.m. I've been to my fair share of discotheques in Dakar, for better or worse, but I had never had one thrown in my honor. I had this exact chance this past weekend when my Senegalese friends surprised me and told me they were going to throw a soiree with me and another American, a guy named Tinaree. They originally told me I was going to co-dj and all, that I needed to bring a lot of friends and what not. Despite the slightly unpleasant, if not uncomfortable times I've had while going to other discotheques, I was excited. Leaving Joal and going back to Dakar is always nice, even if the travel isn't that interesting. Being cramped in a sept-place, a station wagon where seven seats are available, isn't the funnest way to travel, plus the constant traffic jam around Rufisque, basically just the urban spillover of Dakar, isn't the most appealing way to travel. The sept-place's are fine, they are better than the Jeggan-Jey's, which are basically the minibuses that run between villages in the country side. The Jeggan-Jey's are first of all more crowded (they quite literally push more people into the bus when it is already full, I mean push them in like you would try to fit more clothes in your suitcase even though its way past its limit), a lot slower, and they stop frequently to pick up anyone along the side of the road. I hate to be the rich American snob but paying the extra fifty cents to be that much more comfortable is not that much to me. The second hard thing about traveling to Dakar is Rufisque. Rufisque is the urban sprawl of Dakar, a continuation of the banlieu (suburbs) that extends for miles and miles outside of Dakar. Dakar is a mega-trapolis (or something like that), nearly half of the population of Senegal lives in Dakar, meaning that it is huge. Although it may not be as large as some U.S. cities, in terms of relativity, the numbers of citizens in the country side and those in Dakar, it is gigantic. If this happened in the U.S. it would be the equivalent of New York possessing half the U.S. population. Imagine that. Rufisque is a traffic jam, that is what it is to me, one giant traffic jam. Every time, no matter what time of the day, I pass through Rufisque it is always stop and go traffic for at least an hour. This is largely due to the fact that there is one highway, one single highway in and out of Dakar.
Once I actually get into Dakar its usually fine. I am usually dehydrated, semi sick because I have been sitting in a traffic jam breathing in dust and car exhaust (vehicle emmision checks do not exist here), and usually with only enough money to get me halfway home. This is a weird happening but it seems to happen everytime, I would like to blame something else besides my bad planning decisions. Anyways, there was a new American staying at my host family in Dakar. It was interesting to speak with him about his experience (he is african-american) and how different it is. Its interesting to talk about things like racial differences here because the whole politically correct, lets not insult anyone by saying they are different thing doesn't exist here. Here is an example of how people identify other people:

My host brother: "There is a black guy here"
Me: "alright"
My host brother: "NO a black American"
Me: "Ohhhhh, the other American student, the African American guy"
My host brother: "Yeah, the black one"

Of course this is in French and Wolof, but to some people it may seem crude. It isn't here, the whole racial thing is all out in the open. Yes, we do have different colored skin and I will classify you based on this appearence. This is how they think. It is the same thing with anything else. When I first came back to Joal my host sister here greeted me by saying "You cut your hair, you look so ugly". In any other society this might be an insult, here it is nothing.

Now the soirée: I actually managed to assemble a fair amount of Americans to come to my soiree. This has two advantages, first of all you are not the only white person in the club, which often attracts much attention, and also then my friends won't tell me I refuse to share my American women with them. It is common for Senegalese men to ask for American women, like asking to borrow a pencil. I know this may be unkind to the American girls here, but regardless whenever American girls enter any situation where dancing, drinking or partying is involved here they attract much attention, and as they will probably go to these sorts of things with or without my prompting I didn't feel so bad asking them to come to my soiree. I never ended up DJing, which was good, because although I know how to run a board I am not a real DJ. It was funny to see my Senegalese friends act like they were DJ's. They weren't very good, and there were many times when two people would be trying to play a song at the same time so all we heard was noise. Overall, it was fun. I am glad to be back in Joal. I love Dakar but hate it at the same time. Its generic nature, its massive ambiguitiy. At times when I am in Dakar I feel like I could be in any large city in the world. Its just a mass of any influence combining in some frankestein creature of a city. It seems to have its own movements, its own directions that seem to be outside of the control of humans. I prefer the countryside, even if it is less modern, even if I am bored a lot of the times. I'd rather be bored than stressed and confused. Dakar is just this, a city that you get used to because it is so familiar, so generic, so just like New York, with different languages and all Senegalese people. Its hard to feel like you are in Senegal there. I feel better in Joal, more like this is what Senegal was about, even if it isn't what Senegal will be. Modernity usurps Antiquity, its not a bad thing, in a lot of cases, its a process. People desire change, so its hard to complain about these changing morals, but I like the experience of Joal. There is peace. Am na jom.