When we were in Dakar, Senegal, we were not for the life of us thinking that we would make it to St. Loui. I had heard things about St. Loui—maybe even mystical things. Dakar was the only place for us on the map. Strict planning from Dakar to Nouakchott, Mauritania—camel market, fisherman village, and head to Mirflit via Guerguerat and Dakhla, Morocco.

We got denied entry into Mauritania as our visa was single-entry and we had used it coming up from Mauritania. So, too bad—we got deserted in St. Loui for four expensive days.

Expansive days.
Expensive days.

The very fact that I took the picture below summed up my feelings of what was going on there. Yes, it was a glory of the old French—people seeing what they saw there, their crown jewel. A place where they abused the Senegalese people—into slaves, really. The places of many slaves—used and abused.

Ah well, so that business was going on in the tourist-friendly island of St. Loui, where we stayed. However, outside the island was a different St. Loui. A St. Loui of what is in Senegal but does not meet your eyes. Expansive sea-facing villages with little to no facilities of any kind. The rouge community.

They live in absolutely the most horrific refuse situation, but mostly probably to blame is the fact that trash was just being spilled there. Weird.

We saw this scene on the beach.
Have a look at the picture.

My thoughts were very conflicted with what was going on. A whole different movie playing in a different theatre. No facilities given, yet exploitation of the worst kind. Lately, I’ve started questioning what freedom really is. Is it the Senegalese who are a true example of freedom, or is it the French exploitation that is the absolute example of freedom?

I’m conflicted as I’ve come back to Toronto and now back in the Shire, and back in my office. I’m thinking about things in such a different way. Even stumbling upon this picture in my memories has given me a whole new perspective on beauty. Alhamdulillah.

I am very blessed to have seen these scenes. I felt special. It felt special. Good people—the Senegalese people. I felt very safe within them. And more eyes have made me want to go to Benin. I’m not sure if it’s Zara’s video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZw6VXj6i0s) that made me want to go there, but I feel there’s a lot of learning there.

I will make my way to Benin. Rough plan would be to start in Granada, Spain. Buy a car there and drive it down to Benin.

Again, I’m drifting.

I’ll get there and I’ll see what there is to see, God willing.
Inshallah.