As I was walking around, getting lost again and again, discovering empty streets, houses about to fall apart and houses that has fallen apart, I stumbled upon an alley I walked in some days ago. I decided to walk up the alley again and as I did a young man sitting on his doorstep raised his head in a ‘hello’ and asked “are you a photographer?” I said “yes, I am.” He asked how I found the alley, and I told him it’s right here, “I’ve stumbled upon it before and I like it so I decided to walk here again. It’s interesting.”
I sat down next to him on his doorstep, showed him some of the photographs, and we talked for a while about life, travelling and growing up on the country side in two different parts of the world. A boy walked past carrying two thermoses, my new friend called him and asked me if I wanted some Zanzibar-coffee, I couldn’t decline and we had a cup each of ginger coffee.
He sipped his coffee and said “travelling alone in Africa being a woman, you are strong hey.” I told him that at least I try to be. “No, you Are strong.” he said, looking at me. “Thank you” I said, gazing at the half torn building in front of us and thought of the past two months, “I have been fighting so much against my self.” I told him, and we talked about struggles in life and how fantastic travelling is. He is dreaming of South America, me of West Africa.