After all the noise last night I finally fell asleep and slept well. This would be the last morning in Senegal and I needed to get all packed up. But that would come after breakfast. I joined the other guests, some of whom were at the large breakfast table and others outside. I spent some talking with an interesting couple about my age from Spain who had been traveling and doing home stays primarily in the Casamance. Breakfast was fruit and eggs and coffee and was fine. Once finished, I went back to finish packing and figure out how the few masks and wood carvings I had purchased would get home. The rolling duffel bag worked well as it had two compartments and only one had my clothes in it. So with some rearranging and cushioning with underwear and socks I got everything packed up. I was able to leave the bag in the office for the day. I settled the bill and the staff was able to call for a taxi.

So I set out for my last day's adventures to explore Dakar. I asked the cab driver to take me to Marche Kermel, a few miles away in downtown Dakar. The market was a food market with fish and meat and vegetables. I walked through the narrow aisles, not much different than other developing nation food markets. Outside there were vendors with beads, carvings, and other "souvenirs", some of whom spoke English and were eager to engage me in conversation. As I Ieft the market a man approached me asking for money, telling me his child was sick and in the hospital. He had a handful of bills for medicines in his hand and a picture of his son and told me he had to use all of his money to buy the medicine. I felt bad for him and gave him a little money. I walked to Independence Square to take a few pictures and as I was walking back to go to another market, Marche Sandaga, the largest market in Dakar, a man approached me and started walking with me in the street. He told me he would show me the market so we walked a few blocks. When we got there, he explained that a few months ago, the main market building had burned down so now all the vendors were on the streets. He told me there was a shop nearby that had all sorts of clothes in it and that the workers there were all volunteers and that the money was used to help orphaned children.

(Web description from Lonely Planet of Marche Sandaga)

"In the endless sprawl of street stalls here you can buy about anything, as long as no one steals your purse."

We walked about two blocks and entered this place which was a building of three stories filled with clothes and primarily men sitting and sewing at machines. Each floor had a different sort of clothing, men's and women's, shirts and dresses. On the top floor was the women's clothing. I saw a sort of sun dress that seemed like it might be ok for me. I asked how much it was and was told an amount that was about $40 U.S. which I knew it was not worth. I offered a much lower amount and the man who worked in the store refused. The man who had escorted me told him to take the money which was in my hand. He got sort of angry and grabbed the dress and grabbed the money as well. The man I was with got the dress back and told him to keep the money and we left. At that point I really wanted to be on my own. My plan for the morning had been to visit the markets and then go to the museums in downtown Dakar. I explained to my "escort" that I wanted to say good-bye. He was quite agreeable and asked me to pay for his morning coffee. I gave him the equivalent of about $1 and we parted.

I headed back to the Marche Sandaga and walked around. Women were on the street selling vegetables and fruits. There were small shops selling everything from shoes to clothes to even musical instruments where a man was demonstrating his various drums. Once I had finished my excursion through the market, I walked out and was standing looking at the map when another man walked up to me and started talking. He told me he was an artist. I asked him if he belonged to Yen a Marre which really made him stop. Then he said, he thought he recognized me from the meeting with AJWS that he had been at. Well with that we were "spirits" together. He told me he wanted to show me some art work and so we walked a few blocks to an area with some art galleries. We went in and met a friend of his. I had wanted to get some of these very typical small Senegalese paintings on glass which were typically portraits of women or a woman with a child. There were quite a few in the gallery. I picked out two with women and one which was of a man baking bread and taking it out of a clay oven. I didn't have much cash left at this point, so they happily walked me to an ATM about a block away. I got some money to pay for the paintings. On the way there we were approached by another man who told me he was an artist and made pictures from butterfly wings. I saw him again after I paid for the pictures and looked at his portfolio. The pictures were nice, birds primarily. So I agreed to buy a couple and he threw in an extra one of an elephant. He told me he was from another area of Senegal and this was the last of his work and he needed to go home.

My artist friend was still with me and told me he wanted to take me to visit his Yen a Marre friends. So we walked for a few blocks and went into this room off the street where some of his friends were. He had made some comment about joining them for beer. I had asked, innocently, if there was wine in Senegal. He told me that there was wine that was actually made in Senegal. So I went in the room, he left and came back about 10 minutes later with some beer and a bottle of 't wine. Some of his friends were there and after we all started drinking they all just broke into song, using the table and benches and curtain made out of beer bottle caps as their percussion instruments. I had the most amazing private concert from these guys, some of which I was able to video film.

After the concert, the beer and the wine, my friends suggested we get something to eat and go to the fish market. But that was only after they asked me to pay for the drinks in the Senegal way. I was happy to pay, but not the $52 they were asking me for. I was really taken aback by that and somewhat angry. I gave them about $10 to cover the beer and wine. We walked out and they got a cab and about 5 of us piled in. WE drove up to the fish market on the beach which was down the road from where I had been walking the night before. The fish market was a miniature version of what I had seen in Saint Louis. There were a few boats and a few stalls with people selling fish. They bought a fish which was going to be grilled right there on the beach. I was sort of feeling like I really didn't want this fish and that I sort of wanted to move on. I knew my museum visits were never to occur. However, I also knew that I was very near the neighborhood of Medina which was an area I had hoped to explore in the afternoon.

So I thanked them profusely for the time together, walked across the main street and into the neighborhood of Medina. This was a really interesting area with buildings decorated with murals and street art. I walked up and down the streets taking pictures of the art and talking with a few people. One street was filled with men making furniture, beds and tables in the street. People were friendly, and I just explored.

According to my map, I was sort of in the general vicinity of Marche HLM, the fabric market, so I started walking in that direction. It was a little further than it looked on the map, but I finally got there. What an amazing place. Shops filled and tables piled high with bolts of the brightly colored fabrics that the Senegalese women dress in. this market went on for blocks. Interspersed were other shops selling all sorts of things, like chicken and peanuts and pots and pans. I passed one small shop with a machine to grind up the peanuts to make what I guess was something like Senegalese peanut butter. It was about 5:30 or 6:00 and I thought I better get back to the hotel. I was able to get a cab and had an uneventful ride through Dakar rush hour traffic back.

From the Lonely Planet

"The fabulous Marché des HLM is the best place to buy African fabrics. Hundreds of rolls of wax-dyed bazin (dyed fabrics beaten to a shine with wooden clubs), vibrant prints, embroidered cloth, lace and silk lend colour to the ramshackle stalls and dusty streets of this popular quartier . You can get matching shoes, bags and jewellery at the same place, and even have your new ensemble sewn here."

The hotel kitchen served dinner. I had planned to eat there and then leave for the airport around 9 PM. I picked grilled langoustine from the menu. It took almost an hour to prepare the dinner, but it was really good. Several very large grilled langoustine, rice and vegetables. I was hungry and enjoyed the meal. The hotel staff were able to call a cab for the ride to the airport. This cab was another that appeared to be held together by paper clips. The driver did not take the main and faster road, but the ride was a bit more scenic. We drove through a part of Almadies which had some well-lit club for nighttime entertainment and got to the airport uneventfully. I was getting to know this airport well. It was my fourth time there and I had explored much of the airport before looking for my lost jacket.

I was able to check in and get through immigration relatively quickly and seamlessly and the had some time to wait for my first flight which was Dakar to Paris.( I did not see my jacket) I got something to drink, walked around, and spent my last little bit of Senegalese money in a gift shop buying some jam for gifts. And so ended my trip to Senegal, an adventure, a learning experience, a cross-cultural journey with such friendly people.