St. Louis.

I'm sorry to say that I left Keur Sadaro with no small amount of relief. While the village had it's pros, the absence of running water was starting to wear on me. While I miss my family back there, the three hour bus ride was amazing.

It was basically the same as the bus ride from Dakar to Thies, and only one really notable thing happened. We stopped at a tremendous Baobab tree, which is the national tree of Senegal and the biggest (on average) tree in the world. It was hollow in the center, and about eight people could fit inside. It also would probably take our entire group to circle around it. 

Besides that, though, the ride was unspectacular. We passed through arid semidesert and small villages that could have been Keur Sadaro.

St. Louis, now, was a different story

We arrived in town at one of the nicest hotels in the city. It had running water, a TV with fourteen channels, and some Western food. Which is why it was one of the nicest hotels in the city. 

After taking a couple of hours to eat, settle in, etc. we went out to find an ATM. Once it was found, we made the mistake of placing our entire group outside of it. Needless to say, we were immediately mobbed by throngs of vendors.

Don't get me wrong, they were really nice. Some of them stopped to talk with us after they realized that we probably weren't going to buy their stuff. But they were so entirely mercenary about the whole thing. They'd pester us until we'd buy something in order to get them to shut up. I resisted the temptation, but it was an effort.

Later, Waylin (Lick '11) and I walked out into the city to find one of the vendors who was selling Senegal t-shirts. We came back to the hotel fifty dollars poorer (collectively, for all you moms out there worried about money), loaded down with crafts, and without Senegal t-shirts.

It wasn't really our fault; the vendors were crafty. Basically the first man we saw upon exiting the hotel paused to talk with us. He explained how he had American friends who go to the university across the river, how he likes just walking along the waterfront, and that he was in town for the Jazzfest that ended two weeks ago. Then, all sly-like, he mentioned "I sell bracelets to people at the Jazzfest; that's why I'm not in my village. Would you like to see a few?"

I have to admit, though, he was the slyest of the bunch. Other merchants would simply catch us looking at their wares and ask if we wanted them to show us around the shop. Since it was hard to say no, we would look around, and try to spend as little money as possible.

The last man we saw, though, was the worst of the bunch. He noticed the small African drum Waylin had bought, and told us that his brother had sold it to us. When we said that probably wasn't true, he pointed in the exact opposite direction of where the store was really located and said, "Yeah, you got it over there. but I have a bigger drum than him, only thirteen thousand CFA (26 dollars)."

After we said a couple of times that we didn't want the drum, we realized that it was pointless. Instead, I tried to BS him that we were going to come back next Wednesday to pick it up. I'm pretty sure he swallowed the story, but we still ended up paying 3000 CFA up front (more as a bribe to get him to go away than anything). Then, we walked back to the hotel with no small relief.

The people here are also more casually...not rascist, but ready to profile than Americans are. For example, when me and Waylin (who is Asian) were walking down one of the streets, a little boy passing by said "ching chow" to him, and went on his way. And also, one of the older men started chattering away in Japanese when we neared him.

That night, we ate at a non-profit hostel for single mothers and there children. The place was really interesting because they take in young mothers (some only sixteen) and their children, and teach them how to sew or cook or bead in order to generate income. The money we paid for the meal with went to the organization, and we're going back there tonight, also.

Okay, I've exhausted my mental capacities for righting at the moment, so I'll close with this. Never take a shower for granted.

-Aaron M.