Flooding, terrorists and Chinese.

I flooded the most luxurious bathroom in Nouadhibou, had dinner next to what might be the worlds’ most famous network of terrorists and got adopted by Chinese people.

I was sitting with the Swedish man, mr C, at a restaurant just finishing our meal when three guys sat down to our right. “That’s them, right there”, C said pointing at them, saying they were members of one of the world’s most famous network of terrorists. They looked pretty normal, though their heads were wrapped in white cloths, as many other young people here. Nouadhibou; the place where there is no law but the one of money and personal interest.
At another restaurant he introduced me to the mafia.

I don’t know what to think about all this. Here’s really nothing, yet there is everything. 600 kilometres of beach stretching far beyond our sight, not a single tourist resort anywhere. Some of the restaurants and nicer hotels try to be comparable with European quality, but there is really nothing. C bought me one night in the nicest suite in Nouadhibou. There was a big bed, not too comfortable, a couch and a bathroom with a toilet, bathtub and sink. As I was brushing my teeth in the morning the hot water tap broke, the hose underneath the sink fell off and water was spraying all over the bathroom. It quickly became flooded and the water started running towards the whole covering carpet in the room.
I ran downstairs to the reception, “the bathroom is flooding! There’s just water everywhere, it’s flooding.” The reception-guy ran upstairs and after a couple of minutes and a half disaster the water stopped. C later said that they try to build nice places, but they don’t understand the meaning of maintenance. But why would you keep the maintenance, if there are no tourists to sleep at your hotel?

Back at the hostel all the Chinese people kept on talking Chinese with me, expecting me to understand all they said. In the mornings they made me coffee, gave me biscuits and sat down talking for a long while. But I have no clue what they said apart from the one guy saying black people smell bad, why I have no idea. Strange things happen here. As I moved my stuff the last night to the other hotel I met a Swiss guy who had arrived just a couple of hours earlier, “you know these guys? I don’t understand anything they say and yet they just keep on talking with me.” That’s life, you will never understand everything someone say to you. Just keep on talking.

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