5th to 11th of January, 2018.
After I take a shower, me and Ndéye Fatou go to the market. We take a bus and she pay. Just later I would realize how near the market is and we could easily going by foot. But also that is one thing about Senegalese people: most of them do not walk at all. They take the buses even to real short distances and to them is really OK. Ndéye Fatou for example, she could easily walk from her work to her home, just over 3 quilometres, less than one hour walking, and save over four thousand Francs. She refuse. To her it is completely out of question do that.
At the market, we buy some lettuce, tomatoes, onions, eggs, potatoes and she also buy some peanuts. I buy some fruits. We come back home also by bus.
That night, she cooks some potatoes with eggs, prepare a salad with the lettuce and the tomatoes, and fry a sauce with the onions. We eat all of it with bread. It is really good and I like the taste of Senegalese food. Unfortunately, I still suffer a lot with the pepper. I do not avoid to eat and then try get used to. But is not easy.
Sleeping at night is quite difficult because of the mosquitoes. The windows have no glass so they came freely at night.
Saturday morning we go to the store. I bring my computer with me and since I could not talk with her boss (I still do not know why she does not pass the phone to me) I send him an mail attached the Decathlon one.
He does not answer me. Nobody answers me.
I eat a bread with Chocopan and drink a small black coffee in front of the store.
When we leave, we go to the market to have lunch and to Ndéye Fatou buy some sport clothes to her son, Babacar, a six years old boy who leaves with the grandparents.
We eat some traditional rice in sauce. It is really good.
Back home, it is weird for me how the girls stay the whole day, almost everyday, without not doing anything. Just in their phones or computers. They do not even study that much.
That night, I cook some Spaghetti. I do not think they like that much but they keep saying it is good.
Sleep it is already difficult but when the pain started it get worse. Almost at the sunset I get up and went to the bathroom but when I came back I barely could walk so I started to craw until the mattress and my vision it was gone, becoming just a big white thing. I start to sweat cold and the only word I could say it was ‘hospital’. Luckily, I had bought milk in the day before so I drunk a little bit even before I went to the bathroom. Maybe because of that, five minutes later I was already better and could talk, see and walk. We decided just go to the pharmacy. There, by stupidity, I did not check the medicine the guy gave to me waiting to check just back home: It was Novalgina, just to the pain. I decided not take and come back later to try to exchange.
In the afternoon, Ndéye Fatou and I go back to the pharmacy but the guy refused to exchange, claiming it was other group of people in the morning. We decided walk to a near beach and since I have my lentils which I cooked last night, I just buy some bread to make a sandwich. She would eat some fish at the beach.
Back at home, after a shower I sleet a little but when I wake up the pain is back. This time, when I go to the bathroom I discover I have diarrhea. When I finally stop going to the bathroom, we decide to go to the hospital. Luckily in the University, so no buses. Before going there I take one of the pills I bring with me from Spain against diarrhea.
At the hospital, the doctor, a young man, does not say much, just prescribe me an anti-bacterial and I get an injection with some other medicine. Since the girls do not need to pay because they study in there, I am like a friend and also do not pay, what is a big relieve. I also start to take the medication for the pain.
The followed days are kind of normal with some big disappointments and a few relieves. Somebody stole my watch from the inside of the apartment; sometimes the girls do not look enjoying I being in there (with two exceptions: Djeina and Iaissatú, who were always give me something to drink or to eat); I have to wake up several times at the night or morning because somebody needs pass through me or simply because I was hit “accidentally”; I get my money back at the store but the Decathlon can just delivery their products in the same country of the stores, so those stores which have my bag were out of Senegal and could not delivery in here.
At the moment I figure that out, I am in the store and I have just a few minutes with connection. I do not think right (what a surprise!) and I have just the Decathlon from London in my mind so I send a mail to Oscar and to Lorenzo in London, asking them to receive my bag from Decathlon and send me in Senegal. What an idiot! I had not contact them since I was in there, seven months ago, and I asked something like that from nowhere? It is so stupid! In the same day, back at home, I realize that I should have just ask to Queralt! Of course they have the same bag in Decathlon of Spain so would be so much easier ask to them: a family which I spent the last three months! My family in Spain.
Anyway, I talk with Pep in the other day and he tells me would coast me at least 70 Euros just to send the bag and I would need at least eight or nine days. The time could be done but the price it is the same of the bag! What could I do?
I decide to buy a more simple and cheap backpack, somewhere in Senegal, and then maybe when come back to Europe to buy a Quechua again.
One day I walk until the Renaissance Monument, this fantastic statue of a man holding his kid in one arm and the wife in another, on the top of a mountain. After that, I walk a little longer until a beach or a good place at the sea to have lunch (a tangerine, some bennas and a Biskrem package). I do not know what is more difficult to find in Senegal: someone who speaks English or someone who can give you information about the places.
On Thursday, almost a week after I arrived at the girls house, I find another host in Senegal. It is not in Dakar but nearby the airport from where I would leave the country.
The girls do not look very happy with me leaving, mainly Ndéye Fatou. But I simply could not keep in there anymore.
At night, Henry come to take me. He is with a car and I think it is a friend or something. At the end, it is a taxi and sharing the ride it coast me three thousand Francs to get to his home. Also a sign that I should have noted.
