moving on from Senegal

As per my last post, events kind of pushed me into an earlier departure from Senegal than I had planned for.  It was a difficult last few weeks, in part from the practical difficulties of living in a friend's front room, in part from having to say goodbye to people when I wasn't ready to, and also due to my inability to make the most of my last few weeks as Ramadan meant there were no concerts taking place and I was in any case spending a great deal of time trying to reduce my possessions to the minimum whilst at the same time trying to chase my former flatmate to recover some possessions that had been taken from the street and put in storage.  Ideally I would have spent a week or so in the south of the country re-visiting the initiation ceremonies, and perhaps some time down on the coast south of Dakar, but I was too busy getting things done as well as 'being there' for the friend I stayed with who is currently going through a hard time.

I was, however, even more aware than usual of the little things one takes for granted in Dakar that I knew I would miss once I left.  The neighbourhood cattle, for example - apparently protected by some form of magic so nobody takes one - but nobody feeds them either so they wander from one pile of rubbish to the next as they make their way round and round our little part of town.  Sometimes one gets left behind and moos pitifully until the others come to find him again.  I got quite fond of them.

I also knew I'd be leaving behind the many horses and carts that ply the streets, the horses usually done up with decorated bridles (often covered with cowrie shells) but also some with coloured leather tassels, glittery pom poms - and a recent fashion for incorporating a teddy bear somewhere amongst all the decoration.  I asked one of the owners what the teddy was for and he just told me it was 'the driver'! 

Of course I knew I'd miss some of the local food and drink, so made sure to eat a mango for my breakfast every day and to drink as many glasses of baobab juice as I could get my hands on.

I didn't really question myself as to why I was leaving.  Despite all the things I would miss - and some of the people there - I would, as a single, childfree older white woman, always be an outsider, plus it wasn't a great base for someone who enjoys travelling as the flights from Dakar are very expensive.

So I packed as much as I could into one rucksack and one suitcase, sold or gave away the rest, said goodbye to my friends and bought myself a flight back to the UK, where I planned to get a few administrative things done before setting off into a different part of the world.