Well, I’m back from Mauritania, and I can summarize my trip as unexpected. Nothing happened as it was supposed to, and yet somehow, everything seemed to turn out ok. Here’s a little summary of it all:
We scheduled to leave Saturday morning at 6am, so of course both Sahnah (the friend I traveled with) and I overslept. I went over to her house at 7am, where I met her friend Ali. He is Mauritanian and so was going to accompany us to the capital. We all hopped on a 7-place (a station wagon taxi fit for the driver and 7 passengers. It is TIGHT, though! But by West African standards, it is a luxurious form of travel, as the same cars turn into 9-places in other countries like Mauritania and Guinea.
Before hopping into the taxi, I had eaten a banana (my only breakfast). Then I took my malaria pill. Well, apparently I hadn’t eaten enough, because a half hour into the trip, I started feeling nauseous. At first, I tried to forget about it, but then I threw up. All over one of the 3 shirts I’d brought for the entire 9 nine days. Funny that noyone but our group noticed, but still, I was a tad bit embarassed.
We got to St. Louis, which is about 4 hours north of Dakar, and the old capital of Senegal. We checked into an auberge, and then proceeded to try to discover the town for the day. This basically ended up consisting of going to the beach… Ha, but wow what a pretty beach it was.
At this point in the trip, I wasn’t too fond of Ali, Sahnah’s friend. He’s strange, blunt, and kind of mean. We had a heated discussion about Islam (he’s obviously very muslim, being from Mauritania). At night, the discussion continued, but in a more laid back tone, over some tea (which, I admit, he makes very very well).
Sunday morning we traveled to Mauritania. We took a quick 7-place to the border, where you have to take a little ferry over the river to go from Rosso, Senegal to Rosso Mauritania. This is where my opinion of Ali changed… Getting out of the 7-place in Rosso was a little overwhelming, with people gathered everywhere around our car to make a few bucks. But Ali grabbed us, brought us to the police station, put us on the ferry, brought us to the police station on the other side, and exchanged our money for us. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he saved us so much time and confusion. Then (the best part), be found a taxi driver to take just the 3 of us (rather than 9 people) to the capital for a reasonable price. I was so thankful, because the ride was 4 hours long is unbearable heat. I had noticed the change of heat the day before, driving north to St. Louis, but it was nothing like Mauritania. It was actually cooler to have our windows closed, because the wind coming in the car was so hot that it was burning my face! And the water in our water bottles quickly because so hot we could have made tea with the water, but you gotta keep drinking just to stay hydrated.
I do not know how Ali could have fasted that day. According to Islam, if you’re traveling for more than 70km, you are authorized to break fast, but he decided not to for some reason. Consequently, though, by midday he was so delirious that all he could do was complain about the lack of spit in his mouth and mutter incomprehensibles nothings… It was kind of funny, but at the same time I had a great respect for his love of God – I would most definitely have broken down and at least drank water.
In fact, though, all we did until 7pm was drink water. It’s so hot that Sahnah and I just weren’t really that hungry. Furthermore, Mauritania is such a muslim country that there weren’t really any opportunities to eat even if we had wanted to. Lastly, when we had arrived at the capital, we went immediately to Ali’s sister’s house, where everyone there was fasting – we couldn’t possibly ask for them to prepare us something to eat!
Cutting fast with them at 7pm, though, was such an amazing experience! By that point, I was ready to eat. They had a long table filled with food and beverages for everyone – dates, pudding, cake, crepes, camel milk (disgusting), and juice. It doesn’t sound like much, but when you haven’t eaten all day, it doesn’t take much to fill you up. And furthermore, this was only the first course.
For the next 5 hours, we lounged around with the family, watching tv, talking a little (only 2 of them spoke French, the rest, Arab), and eating plate after plate of food and glass after glass of tea (probably like 12, I kid you not). As soon as we’d finish something and think to ourselves “Thank God I finished that, now I can relax”, we’d get more. And they kep refilling our juice glasses – I think they forgotten that we drank all day long and weren’t as thirsty as them.
Ali’s family is very well off, so that night Sahnah and I slep comfortably in one of their lounge rooms. They don’t have beds, but we had a thin mattress and a lounge pillow, as well as the fan we’d purchased earlier that day, so we were just fine.
Monday morning, Ali took us to a Mauritanian market, which is drastically different from a Senegalese market. In Senegal, everyone is so in your face about coming to see their shop or buying their products. In Mauritania, there is no such pressure. We didn’t interact with anyone unless we specifically wanted to buy their goods. I liked that there was no pressure, but I did miss the face to face interactions with people that we get all the time in Senegal.
Later that day we went to the beach. It was an interesting experience because we were the only two girls there. Actually, I take that back – I saw one other lady there, completely veiled… We sure got a lot of looks, and one guy even yelled at Ali for allowing us to wear bikinis. That made me feel kinda like taking my bikini off and exposing myself completely, as opposed to covering myself. Mom, you always knew I was obstinate…
Monday night we broke fast we Ali’s other sister, he husband, and her 7 beautiful and intelligent children. The food was much like that of the night before. The only unfortunate thing is that I had started to feel sick that morning, and I think the hot afternoon sun had made it worse, so that by 9pm all I wanted to do was go to bed. Unfortunately, after we got back from house #2, we discovered that my cell phone and ALL of Sahnah’s money (About $400) had been stolen by someone. This was unfortunate for 2 reasons: 1) We could now no longer go to visit the desert, which was WHY we had come to Mauritania, and 2) this was a big scandal for the entire family. They felt incredibly bad and guilty, and were up in our room rambling away in Arab until 3am, when they left to visit their cousin, a police officer. Sahnah delt with her loss INCREDIBLY well – she kept telling the family to please not worry about it and not let it become a big deal for them. But of course it did because they now knew there was someone in their household who was not honest….
Now, our plans had to change entirely. What should we do? Go back to Dakar? It seemed like an intriguing possibility, actually, because one of the things that going to Mauritania had done to me was make me really miss and appreciate Senegal and Dakar all the more. The people, the Wolof, the comfort… Dakar is really a big modern city compared to Mauritania. To have running water, refrigerated drinks, bearable heat…. But Ali pleaded that we stay with the family a little while longer. They really loved having us here, and he was scared that if we left now, the family would think we left because we hated them. So we stayed.
It’s good that we did actually, because for the next 2 days, Sahnah and I were so sick, we hardly ate or moved. I pretty much slept for 2 days straight. During this time, Ali was being so incredible. He’d buy us juice and water, and check on us all the time. And meanwhile, we didn’t know that he was running around town conducting business deals to gather enough money to replace my cell phone and Sahnah’s money. Even though it was not his fault at all for the theft, he felt responsible since he had brought us to this home. What a kind-hearted man. Sahnah didn’t accept the money and I am only borrowing the phone, though.
When we started to feel a little better, Ali wanted to make sure we got all we wanted to get out of our trip. So he still took us out to the edge of the desert for an afternoon, and at night took us to pet and sit on camels. The night before we left, we went over to house #2, where the family had arranged to have our hands and feet henna-ed. Apparently this is a custom that women undergo only for their marriage, so at first we were a litle worried they were going to offer their sons to us. But then they just put the marriage boubous on us, told us a little bit about their customs, and then we ate. But the henna took SO long – an hour to do, then 2 hours of having to wear plastic bags on our hands and feet and not moving, and then 3 more hours of not washing our hands. The henna is still on me, though a little more faded, but I’m ready for it to be gone. I find it impossibly ugly, but everyone here LOVES it!
Ali topped his kindness off the day we left. He decided to borrow a friend’s car and DRIVE us back to Dakar. He could have just put us in a 9-place and waved goodbye, but to ensure our safety and comfort, he sacrificed his. The ride was very luxurious for us, but still it was difficult. When we got to the border at 6pm, it had just closed for the night. I REALLY didn’t want to stay at the border town, so Ali bribed the officers, and 3 hours later we got to cross. Then the whole way home we were stopped every half hour by police at check points. Nighttime cops, though, are apparently very dishonest, and so we had to bribe each of them in order to pass. Then, just before St. Louis, we got a flat tire. Even though we left at 2:30 pm Saturday, we didn’t get into Dakar until 5am! But despite all this, Ali kept smiling, laughing, and joking around.
Now I’m back in Dakar. Very happy to be home. But I tell you truthfully that the trip, despite sounding awful, was totally not. It was soooooooo nice. I can’t believe the amazing family we were blessed with, and the great friend I’ve found in Ali (not to mention Sahnah). But now, I’m halfway through my study abroad, and don’t want it to end. I’m truly happy and comfortable here in Dakar. Hey mom, any chance you can change the date of my return so I can stay a few extra days??
Mauritanian for a week
