Escaping the Border of Bribery Hell, Finding Peaceful Sleep with Senegalese Rice.

Leaving the sandy capital of Mauritania, I arrived at the border. It was like a scene from a desert bandit movie. Suspicious characters gathered in swarms, whispering 'argent' (money) and 'tip' in low voices right into my ear. I was dragged into a separate room, and despite my resistance, I ended up tearfully taking money from my wallet, leaving the border feeling completely drained.
Entry into Senegal was surprisingly easy. No visa required. When I handed over my passport, a stamp was swiftly pressed, and I was set free.
Then, heading south from the border, I arrived at Saint-Louis Island in northern Senegal.

When I got off the shared taxi and saw the townscape, I caught my breath. It was a place with a scent of Europe that I hadn't encountered on my journey so far. Old butter-colored and cobalt-blue colonial-style buildings lined the streets, with the traces of France remaining vividly.

And then, the food.

What came out at the diner was freshly cooked rice and a seafood stew. It was different from the 'minimalist taste' I had in Mauritania; it was a stew with a gentle, savory saltiness. Taking one bite, I felt the tension deep in my body melt away. The staple food in Senegal is rice. Rice and fish. That simple combination soaked into my exhausted body, feeling just like a meal from home.
As I walked through the town, I could feel my heart, which had been stiff with anxiety, slowly unraveling.

I didn't hear the voices of beggars. Children were just laughing and playing happily on the street. Occasionally, the 'baa' of a goat grazing on the side of the road or the sound of horse hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones echoed. People were living their lives with calm expressions, not rushing about in a hurry.

Peeking into the market, I saw piles of African fabrics in dazzling primary colors. The fabric felt smooth to the touch. This vivid and free color palette seemed like the greatest proof of a stable life and a rich heart.

I was liberated from the days of being constantly on guard, sniffing out the scent of dust with my whole body. That night, on the hard bed of my inn, I was able to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long while. The bustle heard from outside didn't sound like anxiety, but simply like the pleasant sounds of daily life.

This is a land of peace. Looking back now, it might have been the safest and most reassuring city in Africa.

—Ah, once again, a soliloquy in a strange foreign land.