Ubuntu Times Two

Mauritania is possibly the coolest place either of us has ever been.

Where else can you spend days wandering through the vast expanses of the Sahara with a train of camels, then explore shipwrecks and seal colonies off the coast of the Atlantic, all the while fearing for your safety and the presence of Al Queda?!

We didn’t plan on spending long in Mauritania, in fact, the day we arrived in Nouakchott we almost decided to leave immediately. You see, Mauritania has suffered the unfortunate fate of having been labelled home to some rather unfriendly Al Queda sympathizers. Since 2007 they’ve been blamed for several murders in the country, notably of four French tourists in 2007, and on the day of our arrival, of a American teacher based in the capital. This murder, attributed to Al Queda, and the subsequent flow of media reports on how risky the country was had us both rather terrified. Suddenly curious looks from passerbyes turned menacing, friendly conversation was perceived as attempts to track our movements, etc. We were literally scared. Evidently, for little reason given overall crime, including against foreigners, is almost non-existant in the country, but the thought that foreigners were being specifically targeted was enough to have us seriously weigh the option of leaving.

Luckily we didn’t.

Many however have chosen to steer well clear of the country. Most government travel advisories state cleary you shouldn’t set foot in the country. As a result, tourism in the country, the primary industry outside of fishing and iron ore mining, has dropped 60% since those deaths in 2007. Our host in Nouakchott, Saif, noted that while pre-2007 he could expect to have 75% occupancy in his small guesthouse, since then he’s lucky to have one or two visitors a month. Everywhere we went we were met with deserted hotels, closed down tourist boutiques, and a lot of conversations about former-guides, etc, having been forced to find something new to do in order to eek out a living.

What a pity.

The country is home to some of the most beautiful scenery we’ve seen on this trip – empty seas of red, yellow and white sand dunes with almost surreal apparitions of camel trains and lonely desert nomads crossing them. 75% of the country is covered by sand, even the capital Nouakchott is essentially paved over desert – the sea shells and sand from the sea are evident throughout the city. And the coast is replete with gorgeous, deserted beaches from where you can spot the schools of fish and accompanying predators in the worlds most fertile fishing grounds.

 Literally at the crossroads of African and Arab culture, Mauritanians proved to be the most welcoming and hospitable people we’ve met. Several times we were invited into peoples home for tea and meals, offered accomodation in their homes, and on almost every journey been urged to join them in drinking their warm, oily, greasy, watered-down fresh goat milk and countless glasses of scalding mint tea. Our last night was spent with our new friend Mohamed, and his welcoming family, eating roast camel and drinking mint tea while watching arab pop music videos. We had met him on our journey from Atar to Choum, a small village on the imaginary border between safe and non-safe Mauritania, from where we planned to catch a 15 hour train across the desert to Nouadhibou. Unfortunately the train was late… by about 12 hours… and so luckily Mohamed rescued us and found a place to wait out the delay, provided us with food, and made sure we had a comfortable spot on the sand to sleep at night. This was one of several nights we slept in the desert in Mauritania, nice on the budget but less so on our backs! 

Our time here was unforgettable and a very fitting way to end the adventurous portion of our travels through Africa that began 4.5 months ago. After almost two weeks in Mauritania we crossed a 4km no-mans-land into Morocco and the occupied Western Sahara. For the two of us, this marks the end of our African adventure. Morocco, and all of North Africa, share little more than a landmass with the countries and cultures south of it. So with that in mind, we’re taking a little break after Morocco and heading home to refuel. 

See you soon. DH and Meg.

Having spent the past month in countries with various degrees of Islamic following – from religious extremism in parts of Mali to very loose adoption in Senegal – we were curious as to what life would be life in an Islamic Republic. Mauritania is known as a moderate nation, friendly to the west, but with very conservative and traditional values and ideals, i.e., modest clothing, no alcohol, pray five times a day.

In preparation for our trip to Mauritania I had purchased a long loose fitting skirt, a few loose fitting long sleeve shirts and a head scarf.  The overall rule of thumb in this country is modesty! And I am happy to say that this goes for both men and women; most men in Mauritania where what is called a booboo which is very Julius Caesar-esque with its draping like fashion but also with the purpose of hiding any shape or form of the body especially the mid-section – which is why tight fitting pants are considered to be distasteful.

So despite the 40+ degree weather I chose to don my baggiest pants, my loose fitting long sleeve shirt and of course the head scarf for this journey into Mauritania; hoping that this outfit would not only put the notorious border guards on our side but also reduce the amount of attention I/we were bound to get in a country with such a strong Muslim culture. And although I was extremely hot in all of these clothes the decision to cover up ended up being to our benefit.

It started at the border where I decided to sit passively in the background and let Dan -“the man” do all of the talking on our behalf. Despite all of the horror stories we read prior to our arrival at the border we had quite an opposite experience and we believe it was due to our extra effort in respecting the local culture; starting with Dan’s ability to speak a few words of Arabic and my obvious attempt to conform to the modesty of the culture; something we later found was very unusual for tourists in Mauritania (despite the very obvious modest/conservative dress of the locals).

After crossing the border we took a shared taxi to Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania. Now according to the guide book, foreign women are to prepare themselves for a large quantity of attention from the local males – something I was not looking forward to but was prepared for given my experiences in other testosterone filled cities of the past. However, this time there was something I could do to try and reduce this irritating attention and this was to dress modestly and to wear a headscarf. This worked wonderfully! Dan and I were free to walk around the streets of the city with little to no hassle from strange men. We even found the people to be very polite and courteous compared to their neighbours to the South – stepping to the side to let me pass and not accelerating their cars as we crossed the intersection but rather slowing down so as to not splash us with the puddle.

With my dark hair and my now tanned skin the addition of this head scarf to my image created a bit of confusion given my very Caucasian looking travel companion. We even had a lot of people ask us if we were Muslim which although we had to tell them the truth we did feel a sense of accomplishment that we were fitting in more than the average tourist!

My experience wearing the headscarf ended up not only acting as extremely beneficial to our comfort in this country but is was also very insightful. As a woman born and raised in the west – an extremely liberated region in comparison – my initial thoughts on wearing a head scarf were somewhat defensive – questioning why a women had to essentially “hide” themselves from the world?

And while I will not say I agree with dress so extreme as the Wahabi-influenced burka, I will say that wearing the headscarf provided me with a safe haven that we as women have all yearned for regardless of our location.  In combination with loose fitting clothes, the head scarf leaves literally nothing for creepy men to look at!

I  hesitate to come across as an avid supporter of covering up our women because some men have yet to develop the respect-for-women-gene but I am left understanding why women in countries such as Mauritania feel greater comfort in covering up as they do.

Sure, it would be nice to think that women could be free of such harrassment no matter their dress, but even civilized Canadian men at construction sites and at nightclubs have a tendency to be less than civil despite our belief in equality and human rights.

But then again, in such male dominated societies, do women have a choice to cover up or not? Or it is simply the way things are? I, as a foreign woman, have the choice (thanks Dan!) to wear what I want, whereas here relations between men and women, and the legal and societal codes that frame them, leave little to no rights to the woman. Thus while wearing the headscarf left me feeling safe, it may leave local women feeling quite the opposite.

Nonetheless, a great opportunity for me to gain a perspective of how women are treated and what rights they have on this side of the world