2004-10-02 - 7:34 p.m.

The sun sets in the west lighting the sky bright orange. A sense of bliss fills my entire body as I make my way home. The heat off the ground is lifting and I can feel the temperature difference between my head and feet. Is my elation caused by the cooling of my body? I think not, but it could definitely be a contributing factor. What is the temperature? I stop into a boutique and read the thermometer on the wall…100F. Amazing, 100 degrees and I feel cool. This can only be a testament to how hot it gets and how adjusted my body has become.
I smile again as I think back on my just finished reunion. During site visit I was introduced to an old man living to the south of town, Mohammed. He was friends with many of the former volunteers in this area, and after meeting I knew I wanted him to be mine also. He is a white moor that owns a small junk shop. Additionally, he is also a raging conspiracy theorist. After waiting some time to return, it was worth making the trip over this afternoon. Walking up, as indicated by the large number of shoes outside his front door, I saw that he had a large group of guests over, and I almost turned back not wanting to intrude. Continuing instead, I silently prayed that I would see some form of recognition in his face when I knocked. My prayers were answered. Before my right foot hit his front stoop he looked up and gave me a grin that would have warmed the sun.
He and his friends were playing Dame. I had never heard of it in the states, but I’m sure it must exist, as it very closely resembles chess. Mohammed was in the middle of a game when I arrived, but he motioned for me to sit down in the circle around the sand play-board. Although it is a two-player game, the elderly men sitting about the game area do not hesitate to voice their opinions or participate. After the end of the second match I felt somewhat awkward because my host had barely spoken to me. I started to get up and say that I had to leave. He immediately responded I must stay because we were going to take tea. Once again, very awkwardly, I sat down.
Mohammed stationed himself next to where I was sitting and began the ritualistic tea preparation ceremony. I repeated the greetings I had given upon arrival, and informed the old man that all the former volunteers who had recently left Mauritania wished to say hello and pass on their well wish’s. It was a little white lie, but I’m sure had I actually spoken to the former volunteers they would have said something similar. Mohammed and I began to small talk, which quickly dwindled to silence. After a few more attempts on my part, my host turned conversation to his favorite topic, politics. The general Mauritanian opinion on US politics is very similar to my own, so I usually have no problem with discussions of the like. Mohammed on the other hand takes issues to extremes. Audrey thinks he does this just to get a rise out of his guests, and doesn’t really believe what he says.
“The Israelis are the one’s controlling all of the major countries in the world,” giving me a sideways glance to see how I will respond. Not giving into his tricks I reply with a simple, “Oh is that so?” He continues his diatribe until he is satisfied I will not attempt a rebuttal, then proceeds to make other ridiculous claims about global politics. I smile and nod my head.
After the third glass of tea has passed I stand up to make my exit. Mohammed recognizes my departure without much fanfare, and I walk out the door. For better or worse I am making friends here. I add Mohammed in with Ah-med the pharmacist who looks to me for advice on how to get an American women to marry him, Sek who is constantly bragging to me of his many French girlfriends, and Sini, a very moral and decent person who is madly in love with Jessica (feelings not reciprocated). They may not be the most upstanding members of the community, but they fill my hours with entertaining conversation and drama.

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