The Mauritanian Way

Last night I asked my host if it’s normal in Mauritania that unknown visitors come knocking on the door, sitting down for a visit. She said “NO. The Mauritanian way they don’t even knock. They just walk inside. But the door was locked, wasn’t it?”
Yes, the door was locked. And then I remembered they did feel the door handle before knocking, that’s why I thought it was my host coming back home. Well that, and the fact that it was past nine o’clock at night. Who comes to visit that late?

Or maybe that’s what they do in the evenings. Outside are certainly not many people. It’s very close to Morocco, and yet very far away. In Morocco it’s in the evenings people live, they sit outside at cafés all night long, chatting, laughing, enjoying life. In Mauritania that never happens.
It’s a very quiet land, this land of desert.


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