Pigeons in Dakar

Some says pigeons are the rats of the sky in big cities. In French, they also designate those who got scammed and/or are too gullible.

I wonder what is the word they use to designate such people in Dakar but I was nearly victim of this interesting practice there.

The story started out in a very boring manner: I was on my way back purchasing groceries from the local Auchan. I guess campus life is something you will never escape from. My hands and my backpacks were full of junk food, soda and anti-insect products when suddenly, an old toothless Senegalese man greeted me, dressed in a blue “boubou”.

This old man told me he was the doorman of the place I was staying. I had some doubts over it but it was my second day there and when I arrived, I was indeed greeted by a doorman. I did not record his face as he was very… Senegalese and the street was very dark. Anyway, that old man had my attention.

He began by asking me questions on where I come from, what I am doing here in Senegal, trying to get my sympathy by giving me pieces of advice on tourism in Senegal.

“I have been told that people in Senegal are nice but this may be a bit too much.”

Then he continued saying he was experiencing a happy event as he was getting twin baby girls. He then told me that the local customs dictates that he had to greet and honor a foreigner for that. He asked my family and my marital status and gave me trinkets (earings and bracelet) you can buy for cheap on the streets, saying those were very spiritual and symbolic for him.

“Wow is that the Senegalese experience of the century or what?”

He knew I was there for work and wouldn’t be available on a week day to attend his party. He asked me to attend his party on monday and I said I couldn’t. He regretted it but sill ask me to contribute with something from my country (aka. Euro bills) for the sheep he was about to sacrifice.

“Wtf?! I am here to make money not to give it away!” was what popped up into my mind.

I pretended not to have anything “foreign” on me. Then he asked local stuff (aka. Fr CFA) was ok too.

I searched in my pockets and found exactly 360 Fr CFA (around 0.50€) and gave them to him. I look straight into his eyers and I saw dissapointment. I also gave him back his gifts saying I was feeling very uneasy accepting those precious gifts of his. Such symbolic presents shouldn’t be given to someone who wasn’t feeling right.

We were just in front in my appartment and he didn’t know it. I muttered my favorite curse words.

He then asked me if I trusted his words or not. I actually said no or maybe I was too overwhelmed by this cultural difference and was used to being treated like garbage elsewhere in the world. He suggested that each of us continued our way to which I agreed.

Lesson of the day: always be on your guard when someone you don’t know call you “my friend”.