Jiro Dreams of Sushi

        There are a lot of reasons why Senegal hasn't advanced economically as quickly as other countries, but it's certainly not because there are no highly intelligent, highly skilled individuals working to make this country a better place to live. Perhaps there aren't enough, perhaps too many of them leave the country for more lucrative work, but there are certainly many who stay here and work here. Most of my work throughout these first two and a half months in Dakar has just been meeting these people and understanding their businesses, goals, and problems. Sometimes I find them, sometimes they find me, but it always ends up with us just sitting in a room talking about what they want from their business. I could talk very generally about the work I do, but I think it's more accurate and more compelling to describe my work first through an anecdote.
         This work partner was introduced to me through a friend of a fellow volunteer. He is the reason that I titled this post “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” because his passion and expertise in his craft reminds me of Jiro's passion and expertise for sushi in the aforementioned documentary. He is a baker and he makes artisanal breads from fresh, local ingredients. His knowledge of the various grains and techniques is unrivaled; his passion for quality and healthy foods unmatched. On top of this, he speaks English and is a former professor who loves to talk about his craft and share it with others. In other words, he's a model that all social entrepreneurs could follow. After several weeks of trying to set up a meeting, we finally found time for me to go visit his workplace and talk about his business. What I found wasn't big or fancy, it was just a guy and a few family members making bread. They didn't even have their own packaging and would just deliver in regular plastic bags to whoever would buy their products. He explained to me how the business was started and all the different kinds of bread he makes as well as some of the technical stuff. He told me that he primarily wanted help finding appropriate, personalized packaging and finding new markets. He made sure to emphasize that he didn't want to grow too quickly because that would hurt the quality of his product. He stated very clearly that he would rather see the business fold than produce a less-than-perfect product. I pledged to help him in whatever ways I could and, on my way out, he loaded me up with all kinds of breads including an experimental cornbread that was not yet available for sale. I quickly finished the bread and have been working on researching plastic packaging producers here in Senegal as well as a few associations he would be eligible for that could help him find more customers. I just recently reported back with my findings, so I hope he responds so we can continue to work together.
         So, that captures a little bit of what I'm doing. In more general terms, I'm also trying to help a company export dried mangoes, created an excel spreadsheet that automatically calculates profits, taught a juice-maker about unit costing, and teach English three times a week on the side. I also want to teach ultimate, but have had no luck finding a class thus far. Ramadan will be over on Tuesday and my family and I will be attending a large celebration in Thies. I'll spend a few days there, then come back to Dakar for a few days, then return to Thies on August 4^th for another 2 weeks of training. I'll be reunited with everybody from pre-service training back in the same facility, so it should be a decent time despite being stuck in a classroom for 8-10 hours a day. I recently had my camera shipped here, so I've finally been able to snap a few pictures. I'll end this post by sharing two of my favorite spots in Dakar. This first photo you have likely already seen if you pay attention to my Facebook account.  It's the view from the top of a hill where a lighthouse sits called the Phare des Mamelles.  It's one of the few quiet spots in Dakar and offers a great view as well. This picture is the view from the food court at a swanky mall called the Sea Plaza.  This is a place to get American food like burgers and pizzas, a cold drink, air conditioning, and a wonderful seaside view without breaking the bank too much (about $8-$10 per meal).  I typically come here on Sunday afternoons to relax a bit and to buy a few things at the fancy supermarket upstairs.  That's all I have for you for now.  Thanks for reading.

Safety Not Guaranteed

Some things should never be normal.  Whether it's seeing kids begging in the streets, untreated mental or physical disabilities, or just general poverty, there are a lot of things here in Senegal that, despite my desire to prevent it, are starting to feel like a regular part of life and, thusly, unmoving; able to be ignored.  Another, slightly less serious, example of this is the standard of safety and cleanliness in public transportation.  Just today, I was on my way home from meeting with a tailor who wanted help calculating and analyzing her revenues and expenses.  I stood on the side of the highway just beyond the bus stop where the "car rapides" would stop. For those of you who are unfamiliar, allow me to take a moment to explain a little bit of what a "car rapide" is.

Car rapides are an innovation unique to Senegal and, in my opinion, carry a very interesting history and cultural significance.  Anyway, they're essentially old luggage carriers from Europe that have been imported and modified to suit the needs of public transport.  They install benches in the back, cut windows in the side, and give the van a really colorful paint job.  Once the car is ready to go, it requires two employees to operate.  The driver and an "apprenti" who basically handles everything with the customer including payment and advertising where the vehicle is heading.  Taking a car rapide is, in theory, very easy as you simply enter through the back and sit wherever there's space.  When the apprenti comes around to take fares, you tell him where you're going and you can either ask him how much or you can just act like you know the price and pay whatever you want.  After a while, you just get to know the price between certain destinations and you only speak up to ask for your change.  The reason I sometimes take these cars despite Peace Corps official recommendation is because they can be about 85-95% cheaper than a taxi and twice as fast as a bus. They are far and away the best transportation option for certain routes including traveling up and down one major highway called the VDN which I happen to do a lot of.  This is the way that many Senegalese get around.  To integrate in Dakar is to take car rapides.  The way they make the ride so cheap is by a) using hand-me-down vehicles, b) doing repairs only when absolutely necessary, and c) piling so many people into the van that it's no longer possible to see inside because bodies are blocking the entirety of the window.  Here's the breakdown:  there's one bench behind the driver that faces backwards that can fit 5 or 6.  There's another one behind it that faces forward that fits 5.  These two benches face each other, but there's only enough leg room for one, so you have to interlock legs in order to fit everybody.  Behind that, there's a bench lining the left and right walls that each fit 5.  Also, 2 or 3 people can sit in the seat next to the driver.  Now all the seats are gone, but there's still space for 3-4 people to stand between the side benches.  Now all the space inside the vehicle is gone, but we're still not done!  There is space for 2 passengers plus the apprenti to hang out of the back of the van standing on the step people use to climb into the cabin, hanging onto anything they can get their hands on.  If you're following, that's a theoretical maximum of 32 people if I'm doing my math correctly in a space that probably wouldn't fit 20 in the States.  Senegal isn't very efficient with much, but one of the things it does very well is packing people into, around, and on top of moving vehicles.  Now that you have a decent understanding of a car rapide, let's return to the story.

I was waiting for the car rapide when finally I saw the van with the unmistakeable paint job approaching.  Unfortunately, this car was already quite full and all of the people getting off were quickly replaced by people from the crowd that formed around the car when it stopped.  I decided to wait for the next one so the crowd would thin out.  Another nice thing about car rapides is that, like taxis, the next one is never very far away.  I waited another few minutes for the next one to roll along.  When it did, it, unfortunately, painted a very similar picture.  Lots of people, little space.  I decided to wait for a third despite my desire to come home and eat lunch as I was hoping that the next one would offer me at least room to stand up.  The third one came with a similar story except this time, the apprenti asked me specifically where I was going.  I told him and, noting that it was on his route, motioned me to board.  There was absolutely no room inside the cabin and already one person hanging out the back, so I told him that it was full and that I would wait for the next one.  He insisted that there was, indeed, space, and motioned to the space remaining on the step off the back of the cabin.  I thought for a moment and, for what I did next, I must apologize to the Peace Corps security staff, my mother, and all who hold me dear or who are merely responsible for me.  I grabbed on.  In the moment, I was dominated by hunger and boredom as it was nearly 2pm by this point, I hadn't yet had lunch and I had let 2 cars go by already.  In hindsight, I just did what I had to do to get home.  A few stops later, some space cleared up and I was able to move inside, but I still spent several minutes hanging off the back of an old, beat up van with 30 people in it, rolling down the highway.  Needless to say, in America, this car would be stopped immediately and police would arrest everyone involved.  This is life in the Peace Corps, though.  You adapt to your environment and what your country considers normal.  In Dakar, it's normal for young men to hang off the back of the van so that others may stay inside, so that's what I'm expected to do.  The security team does what they have to do and they do good work.  I'm confident that, if I ever really get in trouble, they can get me out of it.  They aren't holding my hand 24/7 though, so, despite their best efforts to ensure it, safety, especially during transportation, is most definitely not guaranteed.

So, with that story out of the way, this post is too long to do a full work update, so I'll just keep it short and save the full update for next post.  It's not like I'm getting that much work done anyway as we're currently in Ramadan, the fasting moon, which means not a lot of work is getting done anywhere.  Thanks for your support thus far and thanks for reading!