Blackout

Typing this during a blackout, which is apparently only affecting the quartier where my hotel is located. It’s nearly 10pm, and it’s actually sort of lovely to be without power – the waves, just beyond the doors of the hotel bar, are amplified, the street dogs bark a bit louder, and the bass-heavy music that normally pumps through the lobby/bar area (where wifi is available) is stilled. So here we sit, illuminated only by candles and the fluorescent glow of my computer screen (see photo, which is me, squinting in the half-light). And the incense coil, placed there to ostensibly ward off mosquitoes, burning under my table.

(Mosquitoes, by the way, are not intimidated by incense. They are also, apparently, largely undeterred by DEET. I don’t mean to harp on the mosquito thing, but they really have some remarkably robust specimens here in Senegal. My hat is off to you, Super Mosquitoes, masters of your race).

The hotel staff is clearly quite accustomed to blackouts – the moment the lights flickered and died, they swung into action, creating a sort of assembly line of candle lighting and distribution.  Three minutes later, normal activity resumed, beers were hoisted, drinks were mixed, and people returned to their political debates.

I watched the surfers at the rocky Yoff Virage beach again today, and seriously considered joining in with my enthusiastic, profoundly elementary surfing skills, but just as I was contemplating this possibility, a gigantic – and I mean epic – wave appeared, and I stood there, mouth agape, as boards tumbled over limbs in a furious white froth, making a beeline for a line of black rocks. No one appeared seriously injured, but there was a mass exodus from the water immediately following the monster, buzz-kill wave, leading me to conclude that perhaps the surfing can wait, for the moment, anyway.

I am moving to a new hotel tomorrow (not because of the blackout, but because I sense the staff here, while unfailingly friendly, is slightly confused about the parameters of my seemingly never-ending stay. Which is fair, given that I keep extending my time here in fits and starts, And, if I’m completely honest, it will be nice to stay somewhere with dependable hot water and more than one light source per room, and where perhaps the towels are demonstrably clean. Yes, yes, I know. Americans.). Also because it’s time, I think, to get a new view of things here in Dakar. So I’m off to a different neighborhood, this one on the road leading to the westernmost tip of Dakar, and therefore of Senegal, and therefore of Africa.  To those of you on the East Coast, I will wave in a westerly direction when I get there. (Should be around nine in the morning, your time. I’ll be the one wearing a white shirt).

Comments

[Christopher]

Your photo is very Blair Witch. Kind of freaking me out. Just a bit.

Hope the new digs are agreeable. Good thinking on staying out of the surf. Don't want to pull a Swayze and cut your adventure short.