Dakar in Senegal

How I could go on endlessly about traveling in Africa and how long it takes, crossing the continent from east to west in particular. But who am I to complain if I am paid to go to Senegal and even better when I get to see old friends? So I left earlier to visit my friend Wanji who I studied with in Brighton for the weekend. Well, things turned out a little different than expected but nevertheless unlike many conferences where one doesnt see a thing apart from the hotel itself I actually got a bit around. To the island of Goree for example, where sclaves used to be traded and held and which is now a major tourist attraction with tons of artists and traders.

And god, did they hassle people. As friendly and outgoing the Senegalese are, there is no such thing as wandering the streets untroubled. I did adore the taxi drivers though, chewing cola nut, gesticulating wildly in traffic, cheeky as hell when it comes to negotiating prices but always in for a good laugh when they get caught on totally overpricing.



As soon as I arrived the familiar smell of dust and heat entered my nose. A nice breeze from the sea, this special afternoon light and the omnipresent muezzin together made me like this place instantly. Traffic and pollution however, made me long for sleepy Kigali.

On the market I bought some traditional Bazin fabric, from Mali or as I was surprised to learn actually produced in Germany and couldnt resist to even visit a taylor and have something made. That didnt work so well though, as I look a little like St.Lucia with my white boubou and golden embroidery. I had insisted on writing down to make it silver but the taylor was almost offended when we suggested he might forget if he didnt. But I knew it, thanks to years of experience now.

Together with Wanji I explored the culinaric side of Dakar, but as I had some unpleasant memories of the heavy, greasy Senegalese food I stuck to the international, or rather french side of it. I couldnt get enough of the yummy fish and seafood, nice drinks in nice bars.

Tea(m) spirit

In the spirit of team spirit we set out on a weekend of bonding and socialising at our most favorite place in Rwanda, the Kivu Sun Hotel (now Serena) at lake Kivu. And really the whole team including cleaners and drivers came along. As my boss is going to leave Rwanda I guess staying in such a hotel for a Betriebsausflug was a little bit of a farewell present, they all definitly loved it.



I think I have already made and displayed plenty of pictures of this place, here is one with the smoking Nyiragongo in the back.







To give the whole thing a little educative touch we visited a tea factory near Gisenyi that produces for export. It was actually quite interesting, all these little steps and procedures, the right temperature here, the right texture there.

quality check, apparently you notice the difference not only in color but also by the different sound a spoon makes when hitting the rim. Hmm, somehow that didnt sound convincing...







An unforgettable and my favourite memory of that weekend however, was jogging along the lake and over the hills with my boss. I need to add that Andreas is known for jogging during lunchbreak, no matter what. I myself have never been much of a jogger anyway and somehow the geographical conditions of Rwanda did not make it any more attractive to me. But here I was with my pride and I volontered to go with him for once from the hotel to the Congolese border and back, easy, flat, piece of cake. But alas, change of plan. We were going to eat at a restaurant about 7km away and Andreas had the brilliant plan to simply run there instead. Sure, why not, too late to duck out. And so we started. All was fine before the first hill, actually up until the middle of the first hill. You know how roads wind along lakes and then vanishe a little inland all the way up the hills and down again...And of course it was really hot and the cheering from the Rwandans along the road wasn't entirely carrying us either. Some women with their babies strapped around their bodies and with baskets on their heads run along for a while - no kidding. I wanted to tell them save your energy unless you are also having a big ice cold coke waiting for you on the other side. I started to breath heavily and just when I wondered if I would survive this hill I was saved and we walked the rest of the hill. Down and up again it went until we had a little sprint at the end, passing the Bralirwa brewery towards the restaurant. My body ached for several days after that, but at least I had my coke.