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Dakar's newest landmark was constucted for the millenium celebration. The trumpeter sits on the second millenium annoucing the great things to come in the third, or so I'm told.

While I didn't actually fly Iraqi airways, I'm guessing it's not a likely target for terrorism -- of course, recent developments may have changed that.

This is my friend Khadim. I met him at the university and he helped me find a place to live. He rocks.

Note: Khadim is and extremely common name here because it is the the name of the founder of Muridism, an Islamic sect to which most Senegalese muslims belong. Mamadou and Amadou (variations on Mohammed) are also quite popular.

I'm living on the first floor of this building with the Sock family.

This is madame Sock in what she termed a 'traditional' outfit, though this is how she dresses everyday.

Madame Sock's three elder children. Fatou, the oldest, is 23. She studied computers at technical school and is currently looking for a job. Badou and Fama are studying to pass the Bac, a post-secondary school test. Passing it makes one eligible to attend university. According to all the young people I talk with, there are many educated university graduates and the like for whom there are no jobs.

Here Khadim, the youngest boy in the family, has just recovered from a laughing fit after having pretended to be drunk on ginger-spiced fruit juice.

Awa is the youngest child chez moi.

Meals are served in a courtyard that's partially open to the sky. The big meal is lunch, which is usually served at 2 or 3p.m. Everyone eats from the same plate, with women using their hands and doling out the meat or fish from the center. The food has been great. (Luckily, I'm not one of those people who minds eating rice and fish twice daily for three weeks.)

Taking tea is a major social activity here. The process can take for one to three hours and involves the serving of at least three rounds. The tea is strong and sweet and is served in a shot glass.

This is a view of my family's courtyard from the roof. The week's laundry is in progress.

This is the mosque my family attends. It is quite nice compared to many of the ones I've seen in other neighborhoods. (I think it me that's tilted, not the mosque.)

Sewer system, what sewer system? One whiff and you can easily guess where the pipes from the houses in the surrounding neighborhood desposit their payload. This canal flows directly into the ocean.

In the foreground is the end of the sewage-carrying canal, in the backround is downtown. The boats are fishing pirogues. I'm hoping the fish are caught far from shore.

Yes, that's a horse in the goal, and though you can't tell from the picture, there is a full scale soccer game in progress.

These exhaust belching minibusses, known as 'car rapides,' are everywhere. They cost less than 25 cents and many people rely on them to get around. When I can easily explain the word 'oxymoron' in French, I'll know I've made progress.

Madame Sock occaisionally feeds the multitudinous street children.

Badou claims that if he were bigger he'd be playing professional football in Europe. His siblings find this quite amusing.

Apparently it's much cheaper to have the cinder blocks for one's house made on site than to buy them. I'm told laborers like the ones pictured make about 1,500cfa per day, which is a little less than $3.

Spooky mages of Khadim, the first Murid, are everywhere.

This the center of Dakar's downtown. It's very nice, but if you look at all like a tourist -- white skin is all it takes -- you will be continually harrassed by vendors and touts offering anything and everything.

The surface here doesn't help my already pathetic dribbling skills. The locals, however, seem to have adapted pretty well.

Despite temperatures in the 80s, one sees lots of men wearing knit hats like this. I'm told mine makes me look a bit like a Morrocan, which is probably better than looking like an American.