Tuesday, January 31 Getting from the Dakar Airport to the SIL Centre—an Adventure!

The most “interesting” part of my journey from my home in Waxhaw, North Carolina to the SIL Center in Dakar was the trip from the Dakar airport to my room at SIL. The routine at the airport was pretty much what I’ve become used to, except no one ever checked to make sure that my yellow fever vaccination was current and no one looked through my luggage to see what I was bringing with me.

The temperature at 4:00pm when I arrived was a pleasant 22°C (72°F), so I shed the sweater I’d been wearing and waited for the 250-300 people seated closer to the exit door than I to disembark so I could experience the wonderful African warmth for myself. Finally, it was my turn to go down the 20-some steps to the pavement and board the waiting shuttle bus, which took us about 100 yards to the airport entrance. There we lined up in air-conditioned comfort to await our turn to be processed through immigration, which turned out to be a fairly simple affair compared to what I’ve been through on previous trips to the African continent.

After having my passport stamped as having officially entered Senegal, I proceeded to the baggage claim area, waited the requisite time for my bags to appear, and hauled them off the moving belt. Both bags arrived together, looking none the worse for wear after having traveled so many miles. Baggage carts were available at no cost, so I put my bags on one and headed toward the exit. Everything had to be put through an x-ray scanner, but that was the extent of the customs check. I loaded everything back on my cart and exited the airport, looking for the promised SIL sign, found it, introduced myself to the man holding it, and proceeded with him to his waiting taxi.

We exited the airport property, and we headed toward the SIL Center, where I’d be staying. The first part of the journey went pretty much as expected. There was the usual hustle and bustle of a West African city that I expected, with a wide variety of modes of transportation in evidence, ranging from yellow taxis like the one I was in to vans serving as economical public transportation to motorcycles to SUVs to horse-drawn carts to pedestrians. There were people hawking their wares anywhere that vehicles might stop long enough to allow a transaction to take place. There was the contrast between the nice paved road and buildings in various stages of construction or disrepair—a contrast accentuated by the fact that the paved road was nicer than most I’ve been on in African capital cities. And the volume of traffic was moderate, … at least at first.

But as we approached the center of the city, traffic became more dense. We encountered an increasing number of intersections in the form of traffic circles, each with a long line of vehicles waiting to enter from each of the arteries meeting there. Traffic policemen were present to manage the flow, but it was slow going until we were through and on our way again. As we approached the stadium on a 4-lane road, a police vehicle with siren blaring passed us on the left, off on a mission whose nature I could only attempt to guess. Soon afterward, however, their purpose became apparent, since the events that followed were ones I’ve experienced many times in Africa. Traffic policemen were at every intersection, and they began motioning to us to keep to the right-hand lane. Then a series of motorcycles came through in the left lane, also waving everyone to the right. It was obvious to me that we were in the path of some arriving dignitary, on his way from the airport to his accommodations in the city. We kept to the right, slowing down, but eventually were directed to exit completely the main road we were traveling on.

Exiting put us and many other vehicles all on a two-lane dirt road that was not designed to handle the volume of traffic imposed on it just then. The result was a major traffic jam!

The oversized public-transportation van two cars in front of us was wider than the road was intended to accommodate and had trouble getting past a 9-inch concrete barrier bordering the edge of the roadway. Traffic was blocked for 5 minutes or more until the driver repositioned himself so as to be able to make it up and over. It took us several more minutes to go ‘round a long block and get back on the main road. Of course by this time the visiting dignitary was well on his way to his hotel, and we were able to stay on the road we had been on 10 minutes earlier.

We continued on to another crowded intersection, but after exiting the roundabout on the far side, traffic ceased to move. After sitting there for a couple of minutes, the taxi driver got out of the car and went to see what was holding things up. He apparently didn’t like what he saw because he made a u-turn immediately after returning to the car and took a different route—which involved more stop-and-go traffic, but at least we were able to make forward progress. I snapped a few pictures with my tablet at that point, but all of the interesting events were already in the past, so the one shown here doesn’t do justice to the “excitement” of my trip from the airport.

As we neared our destination, we passed through what I would call an alley but which apparently serves as a two-way street where we had to allow a horse and cart coming toward us to exit before we could proceed. At the far end of that same alley, a taxi was wanting to enter in the opposite direction. Seeing us in his way, he backed up far enough for us to squeeze past onto the connecting street, then continued on his journey. The connecting street was slightly wider, but with the vehicles parked along the side, two lanes of traffic had to pass with care. Had I not lived in Africa for so long, the journey from the airport would have had my pulse rate at a dangerous level, I think.

We soon arrived at the SIL center, where the guard informed the taxi driver that I’d be going to the Director’s house. We got to know Pascal when we were studying French in Switzerland. Now he’s working with SIL, and currently he’s serving as Director for the work in Senegal. It was reassuring to know that I was expected.

We unloaded my bags from the trunk of the taxi, the taximan left, and I waited while the guard went to notify Pascal of my arrival. It was great to see him again, after nearly 30 years of contact only via newsletters! He showed me where I’d be staying, then told me he’d be by in about an hour to take me to his apartment (on the SIL Center) for supper.

I unpacked, shaved and showered—with HOT water from a showerhead, which I was not expecting—felt more presentable, then enjoyed the evening meal and conversation with friends. I met two of Pascal and Janet’s four children and had a wonderful time together with their family, so my stay here in Senegal is off to a great start. I’m looking forward to meeting more people tomorrow.