DAKAR, Senegal — The roar of cranes and bulldozers and the abundance of concrete and pipes as one walks through the streets indicates where Dakar is headed and what it is missing. The atmosphere is not completely chaotic. But it’s quietly chaotic.
As Dakar, the capital of Senegal, has transformed, it has become a fashion hub in sub-Saharan Africa. Dakar Fashion Week, a three-day showcase of collections from 20 designers, took place in December, days before Chanel held its Métiers d’Art show in the city.
But while Dakar’s profile as a fashionable destination has risen, it’s not as easy to capture candid photos of stylish people going about their day as in New York or Paris.
The Senegalese are known for their friendliness and hospitality — two qualities I saw in almost everyone I met on a trip to Dakar last month — but their relationship with Western cameras is reserved at best. Knowing I wanted to venture beyond the modernized corners of the city, I hired a guide – Mady Camara, a journalist and former DailyExpertNews contributor based in Dakar – to help me communicate as not much English is spoken .
We started at sunrise most mornings and walked until sunset, pausing for food only during the hottest afternoon hours. Shooting on film, which posed another challenge: There was a finite number of shots I could take, which forced me to make some tough decisions about whether or not to press the shutter button on my Leica M4.
Wandering the beaches of Ngor, an area along the northwest coast of Dakar, and the streets of Plataeu, the bustling center of the city, I photographed young and old, in outfits ranging from the traditional to the eclectic. An elegant out-of-town student visiting friends at Cheikh Anta Diop University. An artist on a morning walk to Plage de Virage, another beach. A woman waiting for a bus. A man standing on a street corner, his pastel striped shirt blending in with the faded colors of the surrounding buildings.
One of my fondest memories was an evening at Yoff Beach, watching barefoot young men play soccer as the sun set over the Atlantic. Not just one match took place, but dozens. The men who played, more than 100 by my count, wore shirts from different football teams around the world, creating a colorful mosaic that stretched as far as the eye could see.
When I looked at my Dakar photos after returning home to New York, I had a nagging critical thought. I should have brought more film.