Dakar, Senegal

                       Dakar is culture shock.  Horse drawn carts share the road 

                                       with taxis and wildly painted buses.                                   

                   

                                            and women with chickens.

                   The women wear wonderfully  elaborate robes and head gear.

      The markets are colorful and dizzying because of the vendors that grab onto                          you like leaches and follow for blocks determined to get you to buy.

                                   The high tech dishwasher at the hotel.

A Senegalese breakfast under a thatched canopy in the courtyard.

I wish there was a way to attach the sounds and smells.  Goats,  urine, incense, salted fish,  goat bleats,  the voices of the men chanting  when the call to prayer is blasted from the minarets, Senegalese music in the taxis,  wind,  dust, charcoal fires and smoking fish, the roar of buses and cars that need mufflers, the honks at intersections since there are few traffic light, the  clip clop of  horses hooves in carts maneuvering deftly through  busy traffic.