There I was, sitting in the back of a taxi, daydreaming about nothing. It was around 6:30 in the evening. I was semi-conscious of the noise, the traffic and the stench of downtown Dakar, but sleepiness and Senegalese radio diverted my thoughts.
We made our way out of downtown onto the highway. I continued to muse as billboards of President Wade and Tigo! telephone advertisements passed by my window. Sheep, goats and cows were everywhere, as is normal here. On the side of the highway, vendors sat on the ground, surrounded by fruit and vegetables of all sorts, bread, peanuts, sugar and children.
Suddenly something caught the corner of my eye. An old woman was standing on the shoulder of the roadway, next to a parked taxi cab, and a man, presumably the driver of the cab, was beating her as she tried desperately to ward him off. No sooner had I noticed then my driver and every car behind us saw as well. My driver pulled over, as did many cars behind us, and soon there were at least 20 cars stalled on the highway. People jumped out of their cars to rush to the old woman’s aid. My driver got out of his car but upon seeing that many others were there, we moved on.
Startled from my thoughts, I was now fully awake and very puzzled. All that I had seen happened so fast that I didn’t know what to make of it, and I will never know really what happened, or why. But I do know that what I saw in that brief moment gave me a poignant impression of the Senegalese culture in which I am living.
I have a hard time imagining such a circumstance back home. Would a whole line of traffic really be allowed to just come to a halt, for the sake of a poor woman on the side of the road? I fear that too often this would be discouraged, in avoidance of chaos or for whatever other reason, and it is more likely that care would be turned over to the professionals—the police, for instance, and we would continue on our way. Whereas here, people live for each other, they watch out for each other, they sacrifice for each other. No matter what, it seems.
That moment on the highway was a shocking example of the essence of this culture. Like I said, I will never know what prompted the upset, nor what became of it. But it remains in my mind like a clip from a film, unfinished, unclear, but all too vivid.
I’m not actually commenting on the story, although it is an interesting one. This is the only way I could figure to contact you. I wanted to let you know that I’ve gotten your emails and contrary to what you may believe, I have tried to write back a couple of times. Every time it has sent the email back to me. I’ve checked the address and all that stuff so I don’t know what is wrong. If you write me again i can just hit reply directly. I hope things are still going well.
=Cody
I am curious, do you think that in the USA there would have been a man beating a woman on the side of the road in the first place? And I have to say, last time I stopped by Midwestern America we were pretty darn good at watching out for each other as well.
Hi Anna,
I’ve seen some similar events in north Minneapolis. Here, however, the first to respond are usually the police. Then a crowd gathers, and sometimes, begin berating the police for arresting, or questioning, the African Americans involved.
I think everything in this country is influenced by our racism.