A Cultural Divide

Since it would obviously be politically incorrect of me, and perhaps even racist by some, to generalise about negative aspects of a group of people based on their culture, I figured, since today was full of great examples, to write a post about the massive cultural divide between myself and 2 particular people – they happened to be taxi drivers in Senegal (although the latter, in a sense, drove a car and accepted payment for the ride, I’m not sure if he really was a taxi driver…) In case someone happens to misconstrue this as a generalisation about Senegalese (heaven forbid), I will throw in an example of the cultural divide between myself and a certain aspect of bureaucracy – the other person happens to be an Indian.

Stuck in Friday arvo traffic - downtown Dakar

Taxi!

So after deciding to take a weekend break at the seaside resort of Saly, I flag down a taxi after work to take me to the Gare Routiere, from where I will catch my sept-place taxi to Saly. The conversation with the taxi driver, before I get in, and following the standard pleasantries, goes something like this (I have translated in a way that I assume I would sound in French).

Me: I would like to go to the Gare Routiere. How much?
Driver: blah blah blah blah. Gare Hotel blah blah blah.
Me: No. Gare Routiere (this time, pronounced differently, just in case I got it wrong first time).
Driver: Blah blah blah. Gare blah blah. City blah blah?
Me: Not city. Near Point E. Before Place de l’Indepdance. I want to go to Saly. Sept-place taxi. Gare Routiere.
Driver: Ah, Point E. Ok.
Me: No, NEAR Point E. But Not Point E. Before Place de l’Independance.
Driver: Ah, Place de l’independance?

… You get the picture. Eventually the driver implies that he understand and we settle on 1,500 CFA. He tries to engage me in conversation a lot during the journey, I repeatedly tell him I cannot really communicate with him. However, the words “Gare hotel” seem to come out of his mouth a lot….

Me: Do you know where is Gare Routiere? I want to go to Gare Routiere?
Driver: Do you know where Gare Routiere is?
Me: [Pointing] There. Before Place de l’Independance.
Driver: Ah. Blah blah blah, you have to pay more money. Place de 'l’Indepdence is far.

… The above exchange gets repeated in varying form around half a dozen times. I realise the guy has no idea where I want to go. There is no chance I have not pronounced it well, and either the taxi driver does not speak French very well, or I really am that bad at French. But could he really be that stupid to agree on a fare to take me somewhere, but have no idea where I’m actually going, and then just drive? Well, apparently ‘yes’. After threatening to get out and pay him 500 CFA, he agrees on a new fare, 2,000 CFA (why I agreed, I don’t know, I just wanted to get there). But then, 2 minutes later, the whole conversation above starts repeating itself.

Me: Do you know where the Gare Routiere is. Yes or No?
Driver: [Every single word in the French dictionary, apart from the words ‘yes’ or ‘no’]

Finally, we pull over next to another taxi driver.

Driver (to the other driver): Blah blah blah Gare Hotel.
Me: No. Do you know where the Gare Routiere is. I want to go to Saly.

A mixed Wolof & French conversation follows where the other driver explains to my driver that I want to go to Gare Routiere Pompiere. Finally, he understands! For the next 5 minutes my driver complains that he is taking me on a long tour. His problem. Until, we get stuck in traffic. Standstill traffic because we are now downtown, at the main intersection where there is a roundabout with 3.6 lanes of traffic, a few dozen street sellers walking amongst the traffic, a hundred or so pedestrians, and the odd goat.
Finally, 40 minutes later, we drive into the parking lot marked with a sign that says ‘Gare Routiere’. At last…

Taxi! (again)

After nearly 2 hours sitting in the middle of the 3rd row in the Peugeot 504 sept-place, I jump out to get another taxi off the main road into Saly and to my hotel. People are shouting ‘taxi’ at me, so I accept the offer of the first guy after telling him I want to go to Eden du Pescadou and agreeing on 1,000 CFA. This driver, it seems, is just a local with a car trying to make some cash on the side. No problems – a nice young guy who actually puts in an effort to communicate with me in basic French. he knows the hotel, great. Although street maps aren’t used this part of the world, my hosts roughly described how to get there. So when he pulls in to a guarded residence, I ask “Eden d'u Pescadou”. This is Eden he tells me. I try to tell him that it doesn’t look right. But we go around in circles. The guards come over and try to help, and no matter how many times I say to all of them I want to go to "Hotel Eden du Pescadou”, all they can tell me is that “No, this is a residence, Eden.” I try to show my frustration, at least I am thinking “that’s all well and good, but then take me where I want to go!” It doesn’t come through…
I pull out my phone and show them all, the driver and the guards the email from the hotel explaining how to get there. Turn left at Bank CBAO, go past Chez Marcel and Chez Poulo restaurants. It’s on the left. I had been trying to explain this to them for a while, but even after getting each of them to read this a few times, they still have no idea. Not because they don’t know, but because all they can tell me is that I am at Residence Eden. Great.
Thankfully, a couple of Europeans show up. They offer to speak to me in Spanish, but I tell them that my French is better. Magically, within 20 seconds, they are able to explain to the guards and my driver where I need to go. My driver knew the area, he knows the 2 restaurants, but simply wouldn’t think.
The cultural divide? The taxi drivers agreeing to a contract they don’t even know how to fulfil. It’s plain stupid. The inability to think to try and solve a problem rather than just hoping you can get away with things being obviously wrong – that simply doesn’t work.

And for cultural diversity…

In a very large organisation, one always expects to encounter illogical scenarios. Hypothetically, if this were to occur to me, and I’m not saying it did, I wouldn’t know whether to laugh or cry…

From: Me
To: Someone in India
Dear helpdesk,
Does corporate service X exist in this organisation? We are currently using solution Y, which as you know is a half arsed solution, and service X, if available, would make a lot more sense – but I am not sure if it is available.
Thanks.
Kevin

Innocent enough, right?

From: Someone in India
To: Me
Dear Kevin,
In scenario A, service X is available and managed by us. In scenario B (your scenario), service X is taken care of by a third party.
Regards,
Helpdesk

OK, sure, you answered my question, I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to anticipate anything further than that.

From: Me
To: Someone in India
Dear helpdesk,
Since service X is something which we are all supposed to be using, who is the third party? What are their contact details?
Regards,
Kevin

I have learnt to now be specific. That’s specific enough, right?

From: Someone in India
To: Me
Dear Kevin,
We are not allowed to provide the contact details of the third party.
Regards,
Helpdesk

Of course. Why would you?

From: Me
To: Someone in India
Dear helpdesk,
So let me get this straight. We have service X available and maintained by a third party,  but we have no way of using the service because you are not allowed to hand out the contact details. That doesn’t make sense? How do we make use of the service?
Regards,
Kevin

Trying to not get too facetious…

From: Someone in India
To: Me
Dear Kevin,
I have provided you information you requested as per my own capacity & by following the guidelines. Now it is up to you how you decode it. I cannot comments anything on your assumption.
Please intimate us if you require any technical assistance.
Regards,
Helpdesk

Great, the guidelines require cryptic messages to be sent that I have to decode – this wasn’t in the job description. On  top of that, I need to intimate them – I don’t even know what that means.
Time to start a weekend break by hailing a taxi…