Neocolonialism

Feeling very colonial today. We started out with a meeting at USAID. Everyone put on the best clothes they brought on the trip (except for Carol, who popped down to the Meridien hotel down the street to buy something new, since her luggage is still on the way back from Tambacounda). Why is it more important to look good for US government officials than Senegalese government officials? The USAID compound has more stringent security than airports: no laptops, no cell phones, no cameras; x-ray; metal detector. Truly a fortress. Once inside, the health officer we met with, a blonde thirtysomething woman with a bit of the Midwest in her voice, was extremely welcoming and helpful. But the experience still left a sour taste.

Back to the hotel for lunch because it's close, easier than going into the office for the afternoon. The restaurant at Le Lodge is a formal French restaurant, with nothing light on the menu, and prices to match. Of course, the three-course meal took two hours to get through.

After an afternoon of work, we set out for sunset drinks and dinner at the Pointe des Almadies. Gin and tonic seemed like the only appropriate drink for such an occasion (even though this was a French colony, not British), enjoyed with a starter of Vietnamese spring rolls (not as good as my late Aunt Phoy's, but not bad for Senegal). I learned a Turkish word: yakamos, moonlight on the water. It was lovely.