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Randi & I have moved to a new flat in an area known as
Cite Africa. Having had several weeks to settle-in now, it's clear that we've made a good choice. We're a 10 minute walk to
Plage de Ouakam, a gorgeous little cove on the south side of the Mamelles bluffs, where the Lebu community have a fishing village, adjacent to the very picturesque Mosque of the Divine. (Note photos of the plage taken last year at
Ouakam1 and
Ouakam2.)
The flat is large -- 3 bedroom, 3 1/2 bath -- room enough for us and all of you who would like to visit. The photos above were taken from our roof (a three story, 6 unit apartment building), and east-facing patio:
Photo1: from the roof facing south; photo2: facing north toward the Mamelles (one of two dormant, Miocene-age volcanoes, where the North Koreans are presently erecting a Statue of Liberty-height monument -- in exchange for fishing rights); photo3: detail of the same; photo4: facing the plage, level with the mosque's minarets, and the Mamelles bluffs in the background; photo5: facing west toward the sea; photo6: facing northeast, with the Mamelles monument in the distance.
Photos 7 & 8 were taken from our east-facing balcony, and deserve a little more explanation. Whereas in our former neighborhood, in Sotrac Mermoz, our street was lined with house guards, here there are few. We are, as it were, a little closer to Africa, as is demonstrated in photo7. We might use the term squatters in English, though the term doesn't quite fit here. As Almamy explained, when a family owns an unimproved lot, it is better to occupy it, than it becoming occupied, whether by people, or debris. The lot owner might rent the space to a family or, more likely, an extended family, whether Senegalese, or outside Senegal. So we have directly across the street a taste of village West Africa, occupied by a family, or families, as yet undetermined, whom we are getting to know, gradually, through the children, who enthusiastically greet us with bon jour! Our relationship will certainly be the subject of many more blog entries.
This lot is but one of three similar areas down our side street, each very tidy, each reminiscent of a village life-style, each group growing corn, amid stacks of gathered wood. They do not live in squalor; the negative associations of poverty don't quite fit. We might well be as foreign to them as they to us, as they listen to our air conditioners rumbling throughout the afternoons while they congregate in the breezy shade of a large mango tree.
There is an older man across the street whom we often observe doing chores. We met him on the way home this afternoon, and exchanged a handshake and greetings in Wolof. This is the power of understanding and relations in Senegal: the feeling was one of equality, as if there is an unspoken acknowledgement that I happened to be born Tod Spedding, to American couple, and he to another family, in another place, but the circumstances of our births do not obscure our equality as human beings in this unique moment. Such experiences are commonplace here. They are very leveling, and humbling.
Observing him pass beneath our patio last week, it occurred to me that it would be in this guise that the wisest of spiritual teachers pass through our lives, and they are thus the least likely to be recognized. When we ask, what is the right path to God, he replies, help me collect water for my family, because I am an old man. And when I resist soiling my hands, he wanders away, and the opportunity is gone. This is the real world.
Photo8 is the home of a French family, about whom I know nothing, save that they enjoy meals outside, and entertaining.
It's a neighborhood of fascinating contrasts. We're pleased to be here.
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