The next morning we got going pretty early, because Kristin wasn’t feeling well, and we thought she needed a doctor right away. After much discussion, we packed up and left the hotel at around 945. We walked back up the hill to where the cab had dropped us off the day before, where we would have the best chance of getting a ride to the bus station. We sat down and preparing to wait for a long time but surprisingly, a cab came within minutes, and we bartered for our ride to Jam Nageo (?) After being nearly hustled again, we got on a bus bound for Dakar, or so they assured us. The bus was really full, but somehow, we managed to all fit, and we were off. It was only about 1015, but it was already starting to heat up. After stopping at a few places to drop people off, we pulled into this parking lot and the driver stopped. All of the other Senegalese people got off. This was not Dakar. What was he doing? Why is he getting out of the bus? Is this some sort of mean joke on the toubabs (white people)? We agreed to sit in the bus until he came back, and drove us to Dakar. We had paid 600CFA and there was no way we were letting them scam us. So after about 10 minutes, the bus driver returned with a wrench, fiddled with some stuff, got back in and started the bus. Good. We’ll be there soon right? We left the parking lot and got back onto the highway. We were moving at a pretty good clip when the bus began to slow down, the engine sputtered, and just cut out. We were stopped on the side of the road. S***. This is not good. Imagine: A bus full of 8 young toubabs broken down on the side of the road. Great. It’s just our luck that we were the only ones left on the bus. This time, we got out of the bus, and stood on the side of the road. We stood there while the driver and his buddy tried to flag someone down to help us. After a while of waiting, another bus finally pulled over. After some words with their driver, our driver told us to get on that bus. Was it headed for Dakar? That bus is full, there’s no way all 8 of us can fit in there. But he persisted. We squeezed in. Katie counted 48 people. These buses are not built for 30 people, let alone nearly 50. In tight quarters with everyone else, we set off.
After a while, the we reached the traffic. There we sat. Sometimes for 5-10 minutes without moving. It was hot; really hot. After a long time, we reached the lake. This was the same lake I had taken pictures of on our way over. We went through it. The traffic over the next half hour was better, but a lot of stopping and stuff. Finally, we got to Dakar, (not Gare Pompiere, but downtown would have to do.) With great relief we got off the bus. We easily got cabs back to Yoff and enjoyed a vehicle whose carrying capacity was not exceeded.
Once home, I had a great lunch of beef and rice (it’s very unusual to have beef for lunch,) an amazing shower, and returned to Cresp. Most of us sat in the air conditioned room until it was time to go home for dinner.
It was around 1900, so I decided to take a nap. I passed out immediately, and was awakened for dinner. I was not ready for it, so I went down for a second, and came upstairs and passed out again. It was extremely hot. An hour later, I was woken again by two of my sisters, who had watermelon. I was very thankful. I also managed to eat some of the yogurt/millet stuff that they give us on Sunday nights. Then back to sleep again. Woke up when I heard dogs barking at the full moon. Sleep.
