We were downtown for a party. One of Sylvia's classmates was having a birthday and the whole class was inviited!
A very nice french woman is running a birthday kid space for the expats called, aptly, "Kid City." Fun climbing structure, lots of kid tables to sit and draw at, a reading loft with kid books in french - a good time. Was nice to meet parents of people from around the world. Spanish man and his German wife, here working for a shipping company, A different Spanish guy who manages a factory that makes soup stock. (500 million units a year!), a woman who working on human rights issues (FGC - look it up) and her husband who is head of Peace Corps in Senegal, and the Eretrian man who left his country rather then be forced to stay in the military even after his tour of duty was long since over.
So, we have a very boring story compared to these people. Still, they were happy to talk to us and we to meet them. Skylar and Sylvia played and played until Sylvia was finally so exhausted, she didn't know what to do with herself except to ride on Julienne's hip and cry. Well, we knew it was time to come home.
Out on the street, I saw that our car was parked in. No problem because there was a man who minded the parking spots - all 6 of them. Here in Dakar, there are no parking meters, but there are guys who have a "territory" and they will watch your car for you. When we pulled in, I had cast around for someone who looked like they belonged. I then went and spoke a few words to home "Bon jour" I said. "Sava?" I added. "Bon jour, sava," he said back. "Le voiture, es sava?" I said. "Oui, sava. ???????? " I'm sure he said something else. They usually do but I usually don't understand it.
Anyhow, we came out and I went and greeted the man again. Then, I let him know that we had the gray Peugot and that it was being blocked by the blue car. He jumped right up and started calling out to the guy who owned it.
When we got to our car, there was a descheveled woman leaning against the side. I knew she was there and had planned to give her some money as I asked her to move. The usual donation is 200 CFA but I had only a 500 coin. Well, as I pulled it out, another woman noticed and came over. I didn't want to go for more money so I to the women, "L'argent pour deu." and pointed to her and the other woman. This wasn't a great strategy but just at this moment, the parking attendent's helper came over. I said to him, "Bon jour. Tu aidais mois? Es pour les deu, s'il vous plaid?" And I gave the money to the man.
He started talking to the woman and as I unlocked the door and worked to get everyone inside, I noticed one woman getting out her money to make change, so it seemed to have worked out.
The blue car was moved and the parking attendant came over to let me know it was time to go. It was also time to pay. I was prepared. The usual for parking is 500 CFA ($1.00) but I only had a 1000 bill, so I gave that to him. This was the right thing to do, because he happily walked out into traffic so I could easily back out around the blue car that still made visibility difficult. A well spent $2.00.
We drove about a block, came around a corner, and were moving slowly along the street when a man stepped out from the side of the road and waved us over. Something about his demeanor triggered my desire to comply, so I did. From the best I could figure, he was a police officer.
In the states, you can tell they're a cop by the car. In Senegal, you tell they're a cop maybe by their baseball cap. Or maybe the shirt is the uniform? Anyhow, he acted "coppy" so I acted "compliant" and we got along fine.
I understood about 1/3 of what he wanted but between all my opologies, he seemed in a good enough mood and wasn't going to screw us. Or, not too hard anyhow.
The guy, Chris (not his real name), who is the "car" guy back at ISD had looked over the paperwork when we first got the car. He noticed that the insurance was going to expire in a few days, so he and I went out and got new insurance. Then, he said I was good to go.
Well, Chris missed something. Yes, the taxes were paid. Yes, the insurance was good. What about this little sticker here? It had expired 2 weeks before and, oh yes, I see. You mean that sticker that's on the windshield with a date of August 8th, 2013 - that actually means something?
Oh, pull up ahead? I think that's what you want - yes, ok, I will pull up ahead while you have my license in your hand. Oh, sorry my french is so bad. I want to understand!
Well, we pulled up a bit but Julienne pointed out that really, we shouldn't drive away without the license. I couldn't tell if he was saying he was going to hold the license and that when we come down on Monday to pay the fine, he would give it back? Or was it that Monday, we could go down and pay for a new sticker?
Well, he walked back to the car and showed us a small paper that looked like a citation. Either way, it had a fresh new red stamp on it - it must be official, right? We could pay Monday or pay right now. Which would we like to do?
Now that's an easy choice. So, no, it's not a citation. It's a little piece of theater in which he pretends to give us a citation and we pretend to simply give it back, as well as 12,000 CFA's tucked in the fold. We shook hands, I said I was sorry for the 10th time and we drove off.
"Did you get your license back?" Skylar asked. Both he and Sylvia agreed with Julienne - we didn't want to lose that. "Yes," I said. "It only cost $24."
"Seems like a good deal," Julienne agreed.
Later, when we got back home, we told the story (in halting French) to our day guard, Fallou. He said, "Pour tu es douze mille. Pour moi es deux mille." For you is 12,000. For me is only 2,000.
Yes, we paid foreigner bribe prices. Either that or I confused "douze" and "deux" and the guy didn't feel the need to give me back the extra 10,000!
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