My friends Cissé, Angela, and I went to a fake traditional Pulaar wedding the other day which was followed by a real traditional march to the quartier's final soccer match. There was a huge crowd, which an armed guard immediately escorted us through, past the crowd control fence and directly to the VIP tent. I shook hands with all the grand boubou wearing officials, took a bottle of water, a seat, watched the game, and continued to shake hands with whomever approached. Shaking hands has been my job for the last six months and I do it well.
After the winning team lifted the trophy in the air and the crowd ran onto the field, the officials pulled me aside and said Something something Ambassade something something something and shook my hand some more.
Moments later, the winning team's captain came up to me with the trophy, shook my hand, hugged me, and asked for a photo. I had my camera out and was happy to oblige, but he pulled me under his arm and a newspaper photographer took the photo instead. More hugs, more shaking hands.
With the help of more armed men, we finally extricated ourselves from the field. Cissé was grinning from ear to ear so I asked him what the hell that was all about. Turns out the German Embassy had paid for the trophy, the tent, the shirts, the water, everything to make the final game special. The officials were even happier that a German Ambassador had decided to come and see the game. I think I look pretty young for an Ambassador, but maybe not. I'm not sure if any of the pictures made it into the paper, but I'm positive some are hanging up on Mauritanian walls.
Map of Mauritania
Mauritania straddles the Sahara Desert, bordering Morocco and Algeria in the north, and Senegal and Mali to the south. It covers 397,950 square miles, an area greater than Texas and New Mexico combined.