Nous sommes tous les etres humains: une spectacle de danse

Les danseurs,
Ils etaient les noirs/black white/blanche
melanges and mixed, graceful, leurs pieds...
I noticed that when he leaped, I never heard a sound on landing
Ils ne parlent pas, ils ont fait la fete
and then they came with guns and steel,
these soldiers, dragging and throwing to the ground
J'ai entendu des larmes dans leurs gorges
I felt my own.
Ils parlaient des langues d'Afrique, ils dansent
la dance de l'Afrique but I recognize it
it moves inside me even though
je ne l'ai jamais entendu, je le reconnais
I am white.
They are black/noir brown/brun, une blanche
de tel beaute
nous sommes tous les etres humains.

En route to Chicago

Our father would have us shivering on the lakefront
for a Christmas photo
underdressed as usual, those are my memories
of high rises and well dressed patrons strolling along
the lakefront when it's sunny and warm.
it's raining and cold right now and when I arrive
I will put on my raincoat and boots and go back
and when it is sunny tomorrow I will walk
amongst the well heeled without envy.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

my shoes squish in wet grass
following a dog across the field
I'll have to drive after all
and I'm late in spite of it.
Steve, Mark, Samir, Karrie,
Michael, John, Kellin....
Orbital debris, venting, launch depressurization
3d visualization, meteors
all in a days work
my shoes dried on my portable heater
underneath my desk
and I wore slippers until they were dry
so I could go home.

Adaptations

Here, our skin is white, wide open spaces,
the only plumes are high in the sky, contrails.
my lungs breathe clean air, it's beautiful here but
there, black skin, flashing white teeth, black smoke
belches from tailpipes, grit between my teeth,
the smell of diesel in my hair lingers
days later I see the sparkle of white teeth
smiling out from a black face. 

Random take-aways from this trip -

People will ask me in passing, "So, how was the trip?" , "How was Senegal?" and I have 5 seconds to say something meaningful.  What can I say that says something beyond that it was cool,  it was different.  I'm not even sure myself what I would say except that crazy Dakar captured my heart.

Daily life is SO different here, yet still the same in so many ways.  People in the U.S. generally drive to their favorite coffee shop, open up their laptop and enjoy their latte.  Here in Dakar, the dilapidated coffee carts were just setting up this morning at 6:30 am when we got off the ferry.  The barrista has his little propane stove where he boils the water, pours in the powdered coffee, a lot of sugar and pours the coffee back and forth into a larger cup to mix up the sugar, pours it into a small plastic cup for the customer.  I didn't quite catch the cost but it's probably about 10 cents.  So, people work - but the work is manually very intensive.  No time to think grand thoughts.

The laundry needs to be done.  From my hotel balcony in Dakar, I was mystified how a family could so much laundry.  It is all done by hand by women.  It's an important business here.

I'm not sure what percentage of sales comes from purchases made on the street, but it's got to be alot. You can buy a pair of shoes, a mop, cashews, you name it, from your taxi as you sit in traffic.

Money is on everyone's mind, all the time and I am constantly being asked for money.  I had expected it on the street, but not at every home that I visited.  Businesses can't start because there is no credit.

Obviously, I am white and everyone else is black.  I was surprised how few whites there are, anywhere I go.  I was also repeatedly reminded that a white woman walking alone (especially on a first visit) was a prime target for crime.  At a certain point, white people can be integrated, and my friends did note that at the end of my visit I started becoming  a Senegalese, chatting with random people (under their careful watch).  It would be very weird to live here, though, as a white person.

Small details for travel abroad (especially third world countries)
I liked traveling alone and being with the people.  I would not travel alone, however, without having people who would be with me.  Of course, speaking a common language is essential.  I wish I had bothered to learn some Wolof -

What I'm glad I packed:  a stopper (flat plastic thing) for stopping up the sink so that I could hand wash my clothes
an extension cord for when there  are only two electrical plugs and one is 6 feet off the ground.
Water purification (both gravity and SteriPen).  Both worked well.  When I came back to Dakar, the water out of the sink was yellow and filtration was necessary.  Sometimes I just used the SteriPen.
Small handkerchiefs
Sandals and light weight walking/running shoes
Knee length shorts with pockets
Small wallet that could fit in bra

What I didn't need:
Raincoat; insect repellant; antibiotics; diarrhea medication; so many sani-wipes; 2 dresses (1 is good, with pockets is good;  orthotics from REI; duffel bag; hand lotion (I just used sunscreen all the time);

What I wish I had:
more underwear

Practical things I learned:  Carry only small amounts of cash and stash IDs and cash in bra if no pockets.  Same with phone.
The Senegalese bidet is a water spray next to the toilet.  It is very hygienic and you don't need toilet paper.  I think better than a bidet.

What I bought
Two bracelets
One beautiful Senegalese blouse
Two pairs of tailored pajamas from St.Louis

Strikes, riots, violence in Paris

Walking back from dinner with Isabelle, I chatted with the police about when I should leave for the airport with anticipated riots, strikes and violence predicted for the morrow.  By 9 am latest!  Most of the metro will be shut down.  7400 police will be on duty.  Gilets Jaunes, Black Blocs (basically anarchists who just like to destroy everything) and general union protests will all convene today.  I had planned to visit the Musee du Moyen Age this morning, but instead have to leave Paris very early, which I did at 8 am.  Good-bye, Paris!

As of this writing 1000 - 2000 black blocs are expected. So, I am waiting here at the airport, many hours before I can even check my bag for Denver.

A day in Paris

Ah, Paris!  The Seine, Notre Dame, cafe-lined streets, crazy Pompidou Center.  I spoke with two Egyptian construction workers and at length, with an African from Cote d'Ivoire about the problem with sending money to Africa when the government does nothing for its people.  The only path forward to is to invest in businesses which can then employ people.  His friend from Mali piped in.  I bought a new scarf from him to replace the one I left in Casamance.  I would never have begun these conversations except having experienced life in Senegal, particularly Dakar.  I noted that diversity pretty much disappeared in the low number arrondissements.  The African population is sequestered in Arrondissements 10+.  For that reason, I missed a glass of wine with my friend from Morocco.  He had a late meeting and it would have taken over an hour to get to where I was, notably less diverse.  I perhaps would not have noted this before my trip to Senegal.

Paris is lovely and the sun gradually emerged, warming a rather chilly day.  I took in the sights, visiting Shakespeare & Co bookstore to buy a book of poetry, admiring the statuesque architecture of Notre Dame and stately standard fare buildings.  In the evening, I joined my old professor, Dr. Isabelle de Courtivron for dinner in a French bistro, where I shared stories of Senegal and updated her on my family. She, in turn, told me about her life.  Notably, her father is a diplomat and she lived in several different countries, but predominantly France and the U.S.  Although she lived in the U.S  most of her life, she did not want to grow old in the U.S.  Her dog joined us for dinner; they are allowed in restaurants, and she was well behaved, indeed!  She spent a year campaigning vigorously for Macron, feeling that France needed him, and even though there have been bumps in the road, she thinks he is the right guy.

She also cautioned me about chaos in Paris the next day....