Mon Ami...Mon Ami...My Friend....Aziz

Tuesday, June 6, 2006

This morning, I was supposed to have a doctor’s appt at 11 (eventually got bumped to this afternoon), so, I left my house at 8, hoping to make it to the bank before going to the Peace Corps Office. Well, the bank nor the doctor’s appt happened this morning. I spent 2 hours traveling on the bus to downtown Dakar and then around all of downtown Dakar. I blame this all on myself. See, I was standing for a good portion of the time and couldn’t see where we were (as it would have mattered), so I just kept riding. Along the way, I started to have a conversation with a guy. He asked about my wolof studies and I talked about Corps de la Paix and my project. He had never heard of Peace Corps. We talked on the bus for about 15 minutes or so. Finally, he got off (I probably should have gotten off long before). So I continue on the bus and realize where I am and that while it had been a nice bus trip, I must have missed my stop an hour into the trip. I hailed a Taxi, made it to Peace Corps, only to find out my appointment had been bumped…not a big deal.

So, I decided to haul it to the bank. It was a good walk from the Office, but not worth taking a taxi. I am walking fairly brisk, just in an attempt to not be bothered. It doesn’t usually work, but people typically don’t follow you. It gets annoying because people are shouting or grabbing you to try and get your attention. I typically just ignore it all and keep walking.

But, as I am power walking through the streets of downtown, I hear, "Mon ami…Mon ami). I ignore it, I hear this all the time, and I don’t want to buy what they are selling…I don’t even have to know what it is I keep walking and hear, "My friend….My friend" and then I hear "Aziz…Aziz." Aziz is my name here. At this point, I am baffled. I can count the number of people I kinda know in Dakar on my one good hand, and this was not one of their voices, so I kept on walking.

Finally, somebody grabbed my shoulder. Here, I’m not a fan of when somebody puts their hands on me. Typically, when it happens, I look at them, and my hands guard my pockets. Well, it turned out to be my "friend" from the bus. I suppose I have that lasting impression on people.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to buy any of the watches he was selling, so I told him I had to go. I was going to the bank, but that wasn’t going to come out of my mouth. On my way back, I saw him again and acknowledged him. I told him I was running late, which I wasn’t, but my plan wasn’t to get my bag full of money stolen by him or anyone else, so I was in a hurry to get back to the office.

I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about my desire to talk to people and take in things, but things here are a little different here. In other areas of the city, I would, such as near the hospital I work at, but in the more touristy areas, my goal is to be in and out as quick as I can.