Tsetse fly fun

I went to the Senegal to study tsetse fly. Africa is hard travel. Mostly because I'm scared to death of tropical diseases. It is also disconcerting to be in place that you do not speak the language, don't know the customs, and don't know how to be. But the chance of encountering new experiences is just too alluring. I can't seem to resist going to places that seem exotic. And even though I'm usually scared, I go anyway. So lacking any sense of how to begin I'll start with a series of questions and answers.

Why Senegal?

Well, it was the closest African Country and I hate long plane rides.

How did you get money to go?

I starting singing in bars for tips and soon had enough to go.

What did you accomplish there?

Well, I was able to see some great sights so I can give it a hardy, “Mission Accomplished.”

Will you go back?

I've started singing again to get money to go back.

Actually, I met the director of the tsetse fly efforts in Senegal while I was in Vienna. A wonderful person named Jeremy, from France. He is currently trying to set up a trapping system to prepare to eliminate the fly in areas of Senegal where it is found in small patches of green where there is enough surface water that certain plants can grow and that the flies need to survive and lay their pupae (tsetse flies are weird for insects in that they give live birth of a pupae rather than laying eggs and only have about 5-9 offspring, more like a mammal than an insect). So Jeremy and I thought that I would be able to assist in helping set up the trapping system and that I could benefit in seeing the ecology of the fly for my computer models and we talked the UN in sending me out there to take a look. And now I'm hooked.

So here's the trip. I arrived in Dakar at about 5:00 am. Someone was suppose to pick me up, but I'd not met the person. When I got there the immigration police wanted to know where I was staying. I didn't know and tried to explain that someone would pick me up and they knew, but I didn't. He told me to go ask the person and come back. He kept my passport and I walked passed a guard into the baggage claim area and realized that if I went out to where the person waiting I could not get back in. It was Catch 22. But I'm nothing if not resourceful in getting through bureaucratic entanglements. So I had printed an email from Jermey with his business address on it, so I pulled it out and marched quickly back into the immigration area passed the guard who must have recognized me, showed it to the police guy holding my passport and said that's where I'm saying. It was obviously a business address and he looked at it and I stood there with my dumbest dumb foreigner look. He kept looking at it then at me like, “This isn't what I need, but it will take forever to get this guy to understand.” Finally, he stamped my passport and immigration form. If there is one thing I've learned. There are always rules in place to block you. But all anybody really wants is to be allowed to get past the rule. You just have to provide something close enough that the rule appears to be followed. I was in Senegal! (I should point out that that this was a tense start to entry).

I walked out of the airport really hoping someone would be there to pick me up. I was nervous about it because this warning was marked in bold in my Senegal Rough Guide to West Africa: The question of personal safety is one you can't afford to causal about, particularly when you first arrive. Decide quickly on an initial destination rather than wandering in hope. A few ganges of organized pickpockets operate with extraordinary dexterity and daring and, burdened with luggage, you're an easy and valuable trophy. So was really hoping someone was there to save me from the rabble out to get me. On my way out of the airport a man with a badge asked me if I need a taxi. I said no and he pointed out the door and said, “It's not safe out there.” Great. But the first person I saw was a man holding a sign that said, “Mr. Peck.” Yea! He grabbed my roller back and we went into a dark parking lot followed by about 10 people. He they were all trying to talk to me, but I kept talking to Abdul, who was a technician with the lab. Neither tJermay nor the guy I was going to meet in charge of trapping could not come because Jermey missed a plane from the Reunion Islands where he had been on a mission for the UN. Abudl put me in a really beat up pickup, that had about an inch of Dakar on the back seat where I put my bags. “Stay here.” He said, in hesitant English and then he walked away. Leaving me with the 10 guys who now started saying, “Give me 10 dollars.” The car was locked and my window as open only a crack and I kept saying, “I don't speak French.” I was getting nervous. About four of the guys tried to say in English that they wanted a tip, or money, or 10 dollars, and I answered everything they said (in perfectly good English) with, “I don't speak French.” I am the master of dumb Americanisms. Finally Abdul returned and he drove off all the guys. Nice start to my visit.

The hotel in Dakar was not bad. And Sunday I just sort of explored the area. I was very tired from the trip, but did not want to go to bed until bed time. I could not walk far without people trying to sell me things and I soon found that any sort of kind words or no thanks would be met with being followed for a couple of blocks why they explained they were my friends and others were out to get me. Soon I saw local westerners walking through the crowds and they would just brush of attempts to be talked to with a dismissive wave of their hand and a silent small head shake. I saw one poor woman who had stopped to admire something surrounded by about six people all putting their wares up for the woman. I caught on and intimidate the cool aloofness and it worked. It made me feel bad though because I don't like being mean. But you had to be! It was crazy.

The next day, in the Morning I went with some of the technicians and one of Jeremy's students to the field to look at tsetse sites that were actually within the city of Dakar.

We also visited the saddest zoo I've ever seen.

Tuesday, Jeremy, picked me up in a taxi.


In part three I'll give you further details soon.


Warning at crocodile pond near a hotel. 

Monitor Lizard

This was a boy herding goats near an area were were looking for tsetse flies. The tree had a kind of small fruit that I tried and was in taste like a crapple.

Some pretty birds.

Senegal had some beautiful scenery even though it was very dry.

These cattle were being driven in our tsetse area

This was looking from a house Jeremy owned on the Senegali coast. It was a place of as good of beaches as I've ever seen.

This is an ants nest. The ants hold the leaves together by putting their larvae who clamp down with their jaws and hold the leaves in place.

Hyena in sad zoo.

Here Carbaba, Jeremy and Jesu set up a tsetse trap.

More pictures from the sad zoo.

My by Jeremy's house on the beach.

Carababa, Jeremy and Jesu

A fisherman in a small estuary stream. 

Warthog near the restaurant where we hate the zebu cattle steaks.

These two are tsetse fly habitat.