Car Rapides

So for those of you that don't know, public transportation in Dakar makes Detroit look like the shining gem of public transportation.  For those of you that don't know, that also says a lot.  One of these infamous Dakar systems is the Car Rapide.  It can hardly even be called a "system" and certainly not be called a "car."  Nevertheless, this is a Car Rapide below.


These colorful, dangerous-looking vehicles are privately owned and carry about 20 people or more at a time.  (The items hanging off the buses are relics that locals generally put on their buses and taxis.)  However, I feel only the Lonely Planet Senegal can give the description justice: While the [Car Rapide] is really cute to look at, it's not a great way to get around unless random stops, daredevil overtaking maneuvers and crammed seats are your thing.  Car Rapides only operate in Dakar and pretty much cover any journey you can imagine, though not always as directly or quickly as you might hope.

Well said, Lonely Planet.  And since there are no assigned stops, you bang the roof when you want to get off.  But since Car Rapides only cost 100 CFA (~23¢ USD), and I do love crammed seats and daredevil driving (welcome to Dakar), why not?  So yesterday, Zoey and I decided to test out the system.  We waited at the NE corner of Rue Cheihk Anta Diop because that's where they all come.  About three drive up and the boys on the back yell quickly out the destination over and over and if you want to go in that direction, you run up and hop on.  So after about ten minutes, one drives up and the boy shouts "Dakar! Dakar! Dakar!" to go downtown.  So we run up.  And hop on.  And then realize the boy is actually shouting "Oukam! Oukam!" (pronounced Wah-kum) not Dakar.  Stupid Wolof accents.

So it looks like we're going to Oukam.  Oukam is a northern village of the greater Dakar area that is vibrant, dusty, and chock-full-of Wolof (people and language).  Luckily, Jess lives up there, and Zoey supposed to meet her later for lunch, so I call her up.  She tells us to get off at the Bonjour! gas station after about 20 minutes and she'll come get us.  But twenty minutes later, no Bonjour! and we're still bumping along the dirt, pot-holed roads of Oukam.  Soon we're the last people on the bus.  Uh-oh.  The driver pulls over, and the boy on-back starts yelling for us to Marche! Marche!  Well eff, we are stuck dead in the middle of dusty, Wolof-speaking Oukam, nowhere near anywhere a gas station would be.  We call Jess, but she can't really identify the trash piles and fabric markets we're passing.  Finally, Zoey buys a banana, and we ask the man how to get to the Renaissance monument.  We stop for another snack at a pastry shop, then finally meet Jess at the base of the monument about 30 minutes later.

Dakar, I love you.  Sometimes.