the art of negotiation
I'd forgotten about the need to bargain for everything in Senegal. But then I realised that I was paying far more for fruit and veg at the roadside stall than the same stuff cost in the supermarket, and began to suspect that either (depending on which way you look at it) I was being ripped off because of the common assumption that everyone white is rich, or I was overpaying because I'd accepted the first price offered me instead of making a counteroffer. But having been using that stall for three weeks, it would be difficult now to start arguing about the prices, so I spent a hot hour of the Ascension public holiday walking to a large fruit and veg market, where I hoped to be able to compare prices on different stalls and get more of an idea of what the 'real' prices were. But they were all quoting the same (starting) price so I started the long walk home feeling none the wiser.
On the way back I passed a little shop selling stationery, and went in to buy some envelopes (for all those 'change of address' letters to banks and so on). I asked the price for a dozen small envelopes and he told me 1,200 francs (some $2), at which point I changed my mind and decided I'd wait for my next trip to the UK, explaining politely to him that it was okay, I didn't want the envelopes. OK, then 1,000 francs he said. "No, thank you" I replied, "they are cheaper in England". At which point he tapped something into his calculator and showed me the screen - now 600 francs. So I bought the envelopes, half of me pleasantly surprised that the price had come down (having not realised that you could/should bargain in a stationery store), the other half annoyed that he'd initially tried to charge me double - to rip me off. I relayed the story to a Senegalese colleague, who said she also hated the whole bargaining thing, but that you should never accept the first price given anywhere other than the handful of shops where the price is marked on the items (principally the supermarkets).
For someone as uncomfortable bargaining as I am, this had started to have the effect of stopping me from buying things that I wanted, just to avoid having to bargain. But I'd seen a local kind of chair that I really want for my balcony. I looked at them, I sat on one, but there was no price marked and the seller was not going to give me any clue as to the price unless I asked. & I already knew that asking the price is the first step in the negotiation process, it being very bad form to then walk away without making a purchase. So how to find out the price of these chairs?
I went into the site of a facebook group I have found here, primarily dedicated to sharing information on places to buy local crafts and textiles, but my question, "how do I deal with this bargaining thing?" elicited a great deal of discussion. The most liked response was from a long-term resident expat, who said the thing to always remember is that "you never overpaid for something that was worth the price to you at the time you bought it" (ie don't get upset if you later hear that someone else got one cheaper). It was generally agreed that there is no need to worry about not being able to compare prices from different vendors as all will have similar costs and thus a similar minimum price that they will accept. Fundamentally, shopping here requires a shift in attitude, from making a decision on whether you want something based in part on its price, to making a decision up-front on how much you are preapred to pay for something you like, that will then enable you to start the negotiation process. Because there is no 'real price for the majority of things here, the only price is the one negotiated between the buyer and the seller.
But thankfully on this occasion someone in the facebook group was able to direct me to an earlier post about exactly this kind of chair I was asking about, which gave the price the person had paid for them - less than I would have expected (so I'd have settled for something higher had I not known) so I now feel armed with the information and attitude I need to go back to that chair stall and ask the price. Although I did manage to find an excuse to put it off until next weekend...
things move slowly
Things move slowly here. I've asked so many times if I can view some houses or apartments, so as to find somewhere to live, and the answer is always the same (that they will contact the agent and get something set up for today), as is the result (nothing happens).
Maybe I shouldn't push it. After all, for as long as I am in temporary accommodation, my employer pays for my bills, my food, my TV and internet subscription ... but clearly it wouldn't be right to collude in the delays for that reason. Also, the apartment they have put me in is noisy, and has so little water pressure that I am required to shower out of a bucket most days. So I keep asking.
I did view one apartment in the building I lived in for my last year here, but it was really dark and uninviting. Finally last weekend, the day before I flew off to Bissau on my first assignment, I got two viewings. The first a small, dingy place, with no kitchen to speak of, and in the middle of a building site. The second, however, was much better - in a brand new building and with plenty of light - I said I'd take it. Now back from Bissau it seems that nothing has moved forward, but the place is already furnished so should be ready to move into as soon as the paperwork has been signed.
With that worry off my mind, I decided to go out on Sunday, to go bird-watching. Not so much for the birds, as the site has mainly waders in their non-breeding plumage (ie lots of brown and grey birds...), but to see if I could actually get there. As ever, I try to avoid staying in a protected bubble, preferring to be part of the regular life - so public transport, not taxis. I had stumbled upon a website that provides information on bus routes in Dakar, and was very proud of myself for travelling the 12km out to the suburbs on the number 46 bus and then finding my way into the Technopole site where the birds are.
It's a bit of wasteland really, with brackish water surrounded by mud, and with a cold wind blowing (I sell it well, I know...), and the birds are really skittish so it is hard to get close enough to even see what they are.
As I was on my way out, trying to find a dry route back to the road, this Little Bee-eater flew in to welcome me back to Senegal:
back in Senegal
Going back to a place that you loved should be something you feel really positive about, right? So this return to Dakar has been very strange, and it's been impossible to articulate the reasons why I have felt so conflicted and nervous about it. There was a part of me that did want to come back, of course, but the other part of me has felt a strange foreboding, a sense that it wouldn't work.
But there was no other realistic option, so I am here.
& (sorry Mum - she will hate this, my starting one sentence with 'but', the next with 'and'!!) I've started to understand a little better the phrase "going back". That "back" does not just refer to the geography, but also to time. & no, you cannot go back in time. On Saturday I wandered round to the road that was my home for my first five years here - to find that the little bungalow I'd lived in is no more, the land now occupied by a four-storey block of flats. From there I went to the restaurant and live music venue Just4U to request a copy of their programme - to be faced by a building site. Even the very few people I still know here (in the office) look older and tired - as I'm sure I must do too.
I am not saying that I am unhappy to be back, but I am not jumping for joy either.
It will take time to find my feet here, knowing that I can't just slip back into what was here before (I did check on the flat I lived in for my last year, but it is occupied). It will take me a little time to leave behind Latin America too (no dried cranberries in the supermarket here, no 60mbps internet download speeds), especially on weekends like the one we've just had where I was glued to internet news sites reporting on the terrible goings-on in Nicaragua.
But it will come. Slowly. Yesterday I found a website listing events in Dakar - I'd just missed a wine-tasting on Friday evening and an Orchestra Baobab concert Saturday night. So there will be places to go where I can meet people, and establish a new social life here and build a new set of memories. I just have to be patient.
But there was no other realistic option, so I am here.
& (sorry Mum - she will hate this, my starting one sentence with 'but', the next with 'and'!!) I've started to understand a little better the phrase "going back". That "back" does not just refer to the geography, but also to time. & no, you cannot go back in time. On Saturday I wandered round to the road that was my home for my first five years here - to find that the little bungalow I'd lived in is no more, the land now occupied by a four-storey block of flats. From there I went to the restaurant and live music venue Just4U to request a copy of their programme - to be faced by a building site. Even the very few people I still know here (in the office) look older and tired - as I'm sure I must do too.
I am not saying that I am unhappy to be back, but I am not jumping for joy either.
It will take time to find my feet here, knowing that I can't just slip back into what was here before (I did check on the flat I lived in for my last year, but it is occupied). It will take me a little time to leave behind Latin America too (no dried cranberries in the supermarket here, no 60mbps internet download speeds), especially on weekends like the one we've just had where I was glued to internet news sites reporting on the terrible goings-on in Nicaragua.
But it will come. Slowly. Yesterday I found a website listing events in Dakar - I'd just missed a wine-tasting on Friday evening and an Orchestra Baobab concert Saturday night. So there will be places to go where I can meet people, and establish a new social life here and build a new set of memories. I just have to be patient.
What I've learned in Africa
I failed miserably in the two learning targets I set myself when I arrived here - mastery of the French language (I get by but am by no means fluent) and competence at drumming (I've managed to fit in two lessons in over six years). But I have learned a number of things, some about myself and some about Africa.
I learned that I'm not as emotionally self-sufficient as I'd always thought - that I need people. My first couple of years were really quite lonely, until I worked out that the best response was not to try to toughen myself up so I could cope better but to go out and find friends.
I learned that I'm not a very compassionate person. I care about injustice towards groups of people and want to do my bit to put that right, but I don't cry over the suffering of individuals nor do I give and share what I have in the way that Africans (and some Europeans/Americans) do. I don't feel sympathy when I see someone begging, I just feel a need to try to change the system. It's not a trait to be particularly proud of, but then again it is one that makes it easier to cope with a job like mine where you do witness a lot of suffering.
& I learned (or rather confirmed my suspicion) that I am physically suited to the environment here. I love the heat - don't miss winters, or indeed seasons, at all - and my only illness during my time here was the bronchitis I picked up on a winter trip to the US and a touch of flu in my first month here. Not only have I avoided malaria but I haven't even suffered one bout of diarrhoea in more than six years here!
As regards Africa and its people? Well, I've learnt that it is a highly materialistic society and with conspicuous consumption preferred over savings or investment, that Africans of different shades of brown and black can be far more racist (towards eachother) than any whites I've ever met, that things will happen when they happen no matter how many times an impatient white person looks at their watch in irritation, and that when things appear to have gone wrong, there is always a solution, especially when Africans spot a white person in need.
I've learnt a lot about the huge importance of the obligations that come with the extended family system, and the way in which this system is a strong barrier against Africa developing on the same path that the West has. On the one hand it works against people building up the kind of wealth necessary to build businesses, as the more one earns the greater the number of family members who come calling for help; I don't think I have any African colleagues who don't spend a significant proportion of their income supporting their extended family. On the other hand this means that what we in the West would call corruption and nepotism (those with power using it to favour/benefit family and friends) are in Africa normal and acceptable forms of behaviour. I'll never forget the dinner in Mali where I heard a government minister tell some friends that he was going to resign as he couldn't cope with the constant demands for money and jobs from his family and community. Taken up to the next level - the tribe - this also explains in large part why Western-style democracy does not really work in Africa.
I learnt that every sub-Saharan African, whether Christian, Muslim, atheist or animist, believes in a spirit world. This world operates in parallel with the material world but with the ability to interfere in the latter for good or evil. Typical manifestations of this belief include the protective amulets worn by many people and widespread accusations of witchcraft to explain what we would call bad luck.
Finally, I learned about a very important existential difference between the West and Africa - or, more accurately I suspect, between the West and rest of the world - in the way we look at a human being. In the West we focus almost entirely on that person as an individual, with rights and choices that attach to him/her as an individual. Here in Africa, that is not important. A human being is not seen as an individual but in terms of their relationship to others. So one is a mother, a sister, a chief, a Christian, a member of a certain tribe...
I recently spent a few days in an African household, where I was soon referred to as "aunty", the usual term for a respected (older) family friend; there was no way I would have been called by my name. Birthdays are not celebrated here either.
Of course those relationships carry obligations and expectations (built up in the culture over many generations) which are considered far more important than anything the individual concerned might prefer were they to be given free choice. It shows what a clash of cultures it is to try to impose individual human rights (eg the right of a child to go to school rather than to help with the family business, or the right of a man to live and sleep with another man rather than to marry a woman and to produce children) on societies where the happiness of the individual is considered far less important than the well-being of the community. Particularly in a part of the world where it is believed that failing to maintain the traditons of the ancestors is likely to bring misfortune.
It's ironic really that one of the things many expats relish, myself included, is the freedom from expectations and obligations that we have through living outside of our own cultures.
Unless anything momentous happens in the next 48 hours that has to be reported here, this is my last post on louiseinsenegal. Hopefully it won't be long until my first post on louiseinpanama.
I learned that I'm not as emotionally self-sufficient as I'd always thought - that I need people. My first couple of years were really quite lonely, until I worked out that the best response was not to try to toughen myself up so I could cope better but to go out and find friends.
I learned that I'm not a very compassionate person. I care about injustice towards groups of people and want to do my bit to put that right, but I don't cry over the suffering of individuals nor do I give and share what I have in the way that Africans (and some Europeans/Americans) do. I don't feel sympathy when I see someone begging, I just feel a need to try to change the system. It's not a trait to be particularly proud of, but then again it is one that makes it easier to cope with a job like mine where you do witness a lot of suffering.
& I learned (or rather confirmed my suspicion) that I am physically suited to the environment here. I love the heat - don't miss winters, or indeed seasons, at all - and my only illness during my time here was the bronchitis I picked up on a winter trip to the US and a touch of flu in my first month here. Not only have I avoided malaria but I haven't even suffered one bout of diarrhoea in more than six years here!
As regards Africa and its people? Well, I've learnt that it is a highly materialistic society and with conspicuous consumption preferred over savings or investment, that Africans of different shades of brown and black can be far more racist (towards eachother) than any whites I've ever met, that things will happen when they happen no matter how many times an impatient white person looks at their watch in irritation, and that when things appear to have gone wrong, there is always a solution, especially when Africans spot a white person in need.
I've learnt a lot about the huge importance of the obligations that come with the extended family system, and the way in which this system is a strong barrier against Africa developing on the same path that the West has. On the one hand it works against people building up the kind of wealth necessary to build businesses, as the more one earns the greater the number of family members who come calling for help; I don't think I have any African colleagues who don't spend a significant proportion of their income supporting their extended family. On the other hand this means that what we in the West would call corruption and nepotism (those with power using it to favour/benefit family and friends) are in Africa normal and acceptable forms of behaviour. I'll never forget the dinner in Mali where I heard a government minister tell some friends that he was going to resign as he couldn't cope with the constant demands for money and jobs from his family and community. Taken up to the next level - the tribe - this also explains in large part why Western-style democracy does not really work in Africa.
I learnt that every sub-Saharan African, whether Christian, Muslim, atheist or animist, believes in a spirit world. This world operates in parallel with the material world but with the ability to interfere in the latter for good or evil. Typical manifestations of this belief include the protective amulets worn by many people and widespread accusations of witchcraft to explain what we would call bad luck.
Finally, I learned about a very important existential difference between the West and Africa - or, more accurately I suspect, between the West and rest of the world - in the way we look at a human being. In the West we focus almost entirely on that person as an individual, with rights and choices that attach to him/her as an individual. Here in Africa, that is not important. A human being is not seen as an individual but in terms of their relationship to others. So one is a mother, a sister, a chief, a Christian, a member of a certain tribe...
I recently spent a few days in an African household, where I was soon referred to as "aunty", the usual term for a respected (older) family friend; there was no way I would have been called by my name. Birthdays are not celebrated here either.
Of course those relationships carry obligations and expectations (built up in the culture over many generations) which are considered far more important than anything the individual concerned might prefer were they to be given free choice. It shows what a clash of cultures it is to try to impose individual human rights (eg the right of a child to go to school rather than to help with the family business, or the right of a man to live and sleep with another man rather than to marry a woman and to produce children) on societies where the happiness of the individual is considered far less important than the well-being of the community. Particularly in a part of the world where it is believed that failing to maintain the traditons of the ancestors is likely to bring misfortune.
It's ironic really that one of the things many expats relish, myself included, is the freedom from expectations and obligations that we have through living outside of our own cultures.
Unless anything momentous happens in the next 48 hours that has to be reported here, this is my last post on louiseinsenegal. Hopefully it won't be long until my first post on louiseinpanama.
The VERY last birds...and an African wolf
I couldn't let that cricket warbler get away, so I took one final trip back up to the dry and dusty Sahel region in the north of the country, armed with its call downloaded onto my iPod from the excellent website xeno-canto, to track it down. The bush yielded some nice birds - fulvous babblers and speckle-fronted weavers - but the cricket warblers were still proving elusive. So I got out my new toy - the downloaded call - and pressed Play. Within only two seconds, there was a cricket warbler!! It popped up onto the top of a bush, having been hiding in the shady interior I assume. A fleeting view but enough for a positive identification.
Some other nice sightings of the weekend included some beautiful African pygmy geese, the rare Arabian bustard and a big party of vultures feeding on a freshly dead roadside donkey - see photo above.
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There are not all that many mammals in Senegal, but I saw a number of jackals, and heard the interesting bit of information that recent DNA testing has shown these to be more closely related to the European wolf than to the jackals from southern Africa. This photo I took there really does show a wolf-like animal.
A morning in church
Continuing in my quest to tie up all the loose ends before I go (birds, music, sights, etc) I took a very expensive taxi to some 50km outside of Dakar yesterday, to attend the 10am mass at the church in the Keur Moussa monastery. I am not religious, but this mass is recommended to visitors as the service includes gregorian chants sung in the local language accompanied by the rhythm and music of the djembe, calabash and kora.
It was beautiful. The church itself is a modern concrete structure, but its simplicity and design make it a welcoming place, with nice designs on the walls (see photo), and it was wonderfully cool in contrast to the heat outside. I've always loved the smell of incense, and being a Catholic church there was plenty wafting around. I didn't understand the service, and got a bit confused about when to stand/sit/kneel, but the music was lovely, gentle and relaxing but at the same time uplifting, and I bought three CDs in the monastery shop after the service.
It was beautiful. The church itself is a modern concrete structure, but its simplicity and design make it a welcoming place, with nice designs on the walls (see photo), and it was wonderfully cool in contrast to the heat outside. I've always loved the smell of incense, and being a Catholic church there was plenty wafting around. I didn't understand the service, and got a bit confused about when to stand/sit/kneel, but the music was lovely, gentle and relaxing but at the same time uplifting, and I bought three CDs in the monastery shop after the service.
The last few birds
I couldn't really leave Senegal without having seen a cricket warbler, an African swallow-tailed kite, or an African pygmy goose, so some serious bird-watching had to be squeezed in to my last few weeks in the country.
Some birds are easier to find than others, of course, and generally the ones I had still to see were the elusive ones. So I was happy to persuade a British bird-watching company to let me join them for a few days of their Senegal trip, so that I could get to the hard-to-reach Trois Marigots area of northern Senegal. In fact they were such a nice bunch of people that I was sad not to be able to stay with them for their entire ten days, but the three days were pretty satisfactory with great sightings of Savile's bustards, African pygmy geese, African scrub warbler and the rare Little grey woodpecker.
This last weekend it was time to hunt down the African swallow-tailed kite. Until recently there was thought to be a total population of only 1,000 - 10,000 of this beautiful, nomadic bird (stretching right across the Sahel belt of Africa), but then in 2007 a roost of around 20,000 of them was discovered on a small island in the salt flats of central Senegal. Peak numbers are there from December - February, before the birds begin to migrate further south to breed, but on 2 March there still seemed to be many thousands, some flying right over my head, so close to me that I couldn't use the binoculars. The roost was shared with an even greater number of Lesser kestrels, and there were Peregrine falcons, Ospreys and Montagu's harriers around too so it was a real feast of raptors.
I don't have the right camera (or ability!) to photograph birds flying at speed, so cannot show you the kite, but here is a rather poor quality photo of another raptor - the Red-necked falcon - I am lucky enough to be able to watch this pair in their palm tree roost from my balcony every morning.
I had no luck with the cricket warbler but then they say it is always good to have a reason to return somewhere!
Some birds are easier to find than others, of course, and generally the ones I had still to see were the elusive ones. So I was happy to persuade a British bird-watching company to let me join them for a few days of their Senegal trip, so that I could get to the hard-to-reach Trois Marigots area of northern Senegal. In fact they were such a nice bunch of people that I was sad not to be able to stay with them for their entire ten days, but the three days were pretty satisfactory with great sightings of Savile's bustards, African pygmy geese, African scrub warbler and the rare Little grey woodpecker.
This last weekend it was time to hunt down the African swallow-tailed kite. Until recently there was thought to be a total population of only 1,000 - 10,000 of this beautiful, nomadic bird (stretching right across the Sahel belt of Africa), but then in 2007 a roost of around 20,000 of them was discovered on a small island in the salt flats of central Senegal. Peak numbers are there from December - February, before the birds begin to migrate further south to breed, but on 2 March there still seemed to be many thousands, some flying right over my head, so close to me that I couldn't use the binoculars. The roost was shared with an even greater number of Lesser kestrels, and there were Peregrine falcons, Ospreys and Montagu's harriers around too so it was a real feast of raptors.
I don't have the right camera (or ability!) to photograph birds flying at speed, so cannot show you the kite, but here is a rather poor quality photo of another raptor - the Red-necked falcon - I am lucky enough to be able to watch this pair in their palm tree roost from my balcony every morning.
I had no luck with the cricket warbler but then they say it is always good to have a reason to return somewhere!
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