Our planned connection to Mauritania was canceled without notice. The airline gave us an extra meal and one small bottle of water. We tried to contact the sheikh we would be staying with, finally with the help of the Mauritanian brother we told them we would be there late. The kids complained endlessly, and who could blame them. We were very tired and thirsty. I gave them candy from my carry-on and Nutra Grain bars till they were gone.
We finally boarded the plane at 10pm. We arrived in the capital, Nouakchott late at night, somewhere around 1 or 2am. Being in the airport was disorienting for some reason. Probably because it didn’t look like any airport I’d ever seen. No moving conveyor belts, shops, etc. I noticed a worker with one shoe on and cardboard tied to the other foot. We had been asked not to mention the sheikhs name, so we just said we were visiting. The others getting off the plane were 2 European nuns, the couple we met on the plane, and a few others, probably locals. Most other passengers went on to Senegal. I noticed that one woman put her scarf on as we arrived, which made me think maybe this place was more conservative than Morocco.
Of course the kids needed to go to the bathroom. I took them, but it looked out of order or something. I’d find this to be typical of “Western-style” toilets. We had a wait for a ride and then it took some arrangements to get our ten bags loaded up. As we waited in the airport parking lot we heard singing, which was weird so late. Turns out we had arrived on date the in which Milad Al-Nabi, birthday of the Prophet Muhammad (sallahu aleyhe wassalaam) is celebrated. Most muslim countries observe this day, although it was a later innovation to the religion. So apparently the practice there was to sing songs of praise all night in the masjid. The airport guards asked Dh if this was the practice in his country (Pakistan). He told the guards that the day is celebrated, but he disagrees with the practice.
We finally arrived at the sheikh’s house. The driver pushed open the door and we walked in. I stared around me confused, because it seemed like we were still outside. The door led into a courtyard with an open roof. There were rooms in each of the surrounding walls. A walkway lead to the back, where the kitchen was. There was also a bathroom, with something putrid in the toilet. Behind the house was a walled in yard, and a tiled outhouse with a shower. Remains of food on large platters were in the kitchen, apparently cooked for us, but eaten when we didn’t show up on time. Our things were placed in one room, and we were given a room to sleep in. I don’t know why, but I’d expected a bed. Instead there was a carpeted floor and pillows. We all lay down to get some sleep.
Not long after lying down, I heard the athan. I got up and made my way to the outhouse, took a shower and dried myself with my clothes. Then I came back in and prayed. It was not until later that I realized that the adhan that woke me, was the athan for tahujjud, an optional prayer before fajr, the pre-dawn prayer. I lay back down, but I was still disoriented, both my my surroundings and the sounds. I’d never heard real roosters crowing in the morning. As light came I pulled niqab over my face to keep off the flies. Once the kids woke up, I basically had to get up too. First they wanted water. Someone gave me a pitcher and cup (which I had to clean) and I begin to pump water through our hand filter. The kids ran around the inner courtyard, the oldest one shooing flies away. There were many people at the house. They turned out to be the sheikhs extended family. One room full of women, of all ages. One of them very old with a bandaged eye. There was another room full of mostly young men.
The kids began to get hungry. I don’t remember getting food right away. Oldest dd very soon had a meltdown. She began crying and yelling she wanted cold water (not the room temp water I’d been pumping through our filter). One of the young girls asked me what was wrong. I tried to communicate in my very broken Arabic. She left and came back with a semi cold bottle of water and some milk. Idiot that I was, I assumed that she went to where ever they kept the refrigerator (since I hadn’t seen one in the kitchen). In reality there was no fridge, she’d gone and bought things at a shop.
The sheikh was very gracious in giving us accommodations, but obviously they were less than what were accustomed to. After day one, the kids faces were covered with mosquito bites (the other members of the house slept under nets.) Dh went out to change money and came back with food. He told me the streets were all sand and garbage was everywhere. He decided we’d better find a place asap and I agreed.
We spent about two days there, food brought to us on platters. Mostly I sat in the room, trying to sleep. I noticed quick movements under the closet door, which meant mice. I tried not to think of it. At times I wandered around the backyard, spoke to the female members of the family. Other times I wandered around outside of the gates and looked at the other houses. Some were very nice looking, with marble floors. On our second or third night, we finally moved to our rented house.
