The Sound and the Fury

Senegal has no noise ordinances. Anyone can broadcast music or speech--or other sounds, for that matter--anywhere, at any volume, at any time. As I write this, my clock has just silently reached the 2:00 A.M. mark, and piercing the darkness is music so loud that, though it is coming from a high school stadium a few blocks away, sounds (and feels) like it's coming from the apartment next door. This is the third straight day (and night) of virtually uninterrupted music and shouting and what I take to be preaching to youth.

Other common sources of air-saturating sounds are (a) calls to prayer, broadcast from speakers in mosque towers, (b) garbage trucks driving through neighborhoods during the day, honking their horns loudly and repeatedly for 5-10 seconds at a blast (c) youth organization parties, which, like the current stadium event, include singing and dancing into the early morning hours, and (d) all-night religious gatherings, with preaching, chanting, and singing--some of which is quite beautiful, and some of which does not please the western ear.

OK, I guess I should admit that our students are sometimes culprits. During student-run carnivals and afternoon (and late-night) sports tournaments, our kids join in the freedom, and play CDs at bone-vibrating volumes.

Oh, one more example, for which I suppose I can share partial blame, since I paid for it. I attended Chicago Blues Quintet concert tonight. It was held in an open-air amphitheater in the heart of downtown Dakar. From 9:00 to 11:00 P.M., the neighborhood and beyond were treated to keyboard, drums, trombone, bass guitar, rhythm guitar, harmonica, and gutsy voices, all generously amplified. I wonder if it was worth paying for admission. I could have sat on a nearby street corner for free and heard just as much music. (More on the concert in an upcoming post.)

There's something to having the freedom to make noise or, more often, music at any time. But it sure can be hard to get to sleep! Speaking of which, good night.