Entrepreneurship in Senegal

Not 'the' beach, this one is further down the road on the Westernmost
point of the continent

After visiting the beach yesterday afternoon for a bit of R&R, my interaction with the local entrepreneur got me thinking about about entrepreneurship in Senegal. Something that exists on a completely different level to the capitalist entrepreneurship I am used do. Of course that does exist here, but to an extremely limited extent. Here is my experience, at my local beach – I go there because it is a 10 minute walk away, and I’m not actually sure there are any other beaches in a reasonable walking distance (I use the Australian definition of a beach here – where land meets ocean in the form of gently sloping soft sand into the water – some rocks are acceptable).

I sit down on the sand, specifically not taking advantage of one of the half broken umbrellas or partially torn up straw mats. Within seconds, I am approached by a hustler, calling me mon ami and asking for 2,000 CFA! Although this at some point in the conversation changed to 1,000 CFA, and I’m sure is different for every person at the beach, I wasn’t up for it. I figured this is a good opportunity to practice the little French I know, since the gentleman does not speak English. “Why?” I ask. He explains. I have little idea what he’s saying. We go back and forth, with half of the conversation being me telling him that I don’t understand or him telling me that he doesn’t understand English. My argument (armed with knowledge I gained from my colleagues) is that this is a public beach, I am not using any of his ‘equipment’, so why do I need to pay? His argument, I think, is that just like I have a job, he has a job, and it is related to the beach. It seems as though he is telling me that he cleans the beach and makes it look presentable. Admittedly, the beach does look a 100 times nicer than most public spots in Dakar. There is very little rubbish there, the sand and rocks are clearly separated in a way which didn’t occur naturally. Still, I argue – I a coming here to read my book and swim. If I use his services, I will pay. After 15 minutes he decides to leave me and give me free passage.

Musings on Dakar - Part 1 (most likely...)

Welcome to Léopold Sédar Senghor  (Dakar) International Airport 

I have only been here a short time, but I have already noticed so many things that stick out to me. Some of them stick out because I have simply been transformed to a different climate, different culture, different language and different life. Others though, simply do not have explanations because in any context, they simply do not make sense. In no particular order, this is my list of impressions of this hot country of which I have only touched upon...

• The unofficial taxi driver coalition in Dakar believes that if enough of their members honk at you, you will eventually get in one of their taxis and pay for a ride.

• In terms of equal standards, accommodation costs are slightly higher than Scadinavia, yet taxi rides are about one-twentieth the cost, even though the cost of fuel is roughly the same (on the other hand, the standard of the taxis themselves, can't really be compared...)

• It is nigh on impossible to find a self-service laundrette. But there are plenty of "pressing" shops that will clean your clothes (I have a feeling they actually dry-clean...) at a handsome cost per item (a load of basic washing just cost me 16,800 CFA / $33)

A busy round-a-bout with 3 Nescafe vendors (2 seen here, partly
blocked by a ubiquitous yellow taxi)

• Instant Nescafe from a street-seller in a tiny plastic cup is the height of coffee culture, and can be found on every street corner.

• Forget Japanese, European and American cars, Iranian and Indian cars rule the roads here!

• Forget BP or Caltex, here we have OilLibya!

• Like most non Anglo-Saxon Western coutries, the people are some of the most warm, welcoming and genuinely friendly people ever. Spend a day driving a new colleague aroundn to help him find an apartment? No problems. Invite a relative stranger into your house for a meal? Of ourse. Whilst overfriendliness tends to raise alarm bells with me, the worst thing that is likely to happen here as a result is daylight robbery by the street-seller or taxi driver.

Stupid Bed Sizes!

When I moved into my apartment here I found I had what I thought to be a 'standard Danish king size bed' - AKA, 2 single beds pushed together to form a large bed. In standard Danish fashion, there were also 2 "top mattresses" (kind of like mattress protectors in the rest of the world), and then single size doonas too (which seem to be all the rage in northern Europe). I had a large bottom sheet though.

Unfortunately, when you have the above combination on timber floors, with bed legs made out of wood, not only is it bloody uncomfortable lying across 2 single beds, but it doesn't take long for the beds to slowly push apart in the night while you're in the middle.

København - Initial Impressions

No initial photos, just some initial impressions...

I arrived in Copenhagen just over 24 hours ago. Tomorrow is my first day at the office, although I have already met one of my colleagues (who found this apartment for me and also lives downstairs). I'm looking forward to trying something new, and reckon most of my stress at the moment is focused around actually trying to find some more permanent accommodation. Hopefully with a bit of house hunting this week, I'll find something.

Arriving in Autumn here is nice enough. The weather is almost perfect (to classify as perfect I would probably add around 10'C to the temperature). It's cool and brisk outside - definitely long pants and jumper weather (and for anyone who isn't me, probably jacket and possibly beanie as well) - but the sky is clear and it's beautiful in the sun.

So far I am quite impressed with this city although there definitely are a number of areas where it falls behind the modern world...