No Window Sunsets: Soaking up the Scene in Guinea
GUINEA
I actually hadn’t even heard of the country till I was trying to flee to it from Mali ~ happy on the one hand to have left, and sad to leave behind the Gangsta who made Mali memorable. The name Guinea reminded me of the fashionable and highly valued coin necklaces of the same name that many South Asian women might showcase on their wedding day. While gold is found here, Guinea also possesses diamonds, iron and a large portion of the world's bauxite, even though the economy is largely based on subsistence agriculture. I’ll skip the details of the (next level) visa-on-arrival story, but I will say that it made me re-realize what privilege I have to suddenly saunter somewhere (in fact, almost anywhere) without skipping a beat, shukar.
We landed in time to be wooed by the grandeur of the Master Painter, where the setting sun resembled a swollen harvest moon, fiery red and orange unmistakably being the centre of attraction amidst the evening traffic.
We whizzed by the local market where Colonial times remained tattooed and local roundabouts added tiny finishing touches. The five-star hotel’s back drop was like the pocket scarf that added that little extra punch to the already strikingly sexy suit. Classy columns, a boardwalk circling a centre stage of beach atop the waves below and loungey couches (lined up for prime-time soleil-couchez scenes) created the ambiance that said “luxury, meet Nature”.
The glass wall that sheltered the Ocean’s spray also afforded protection from its edge - except for the one panel that was missing! A small yet certain reminder that we were in the developing world where such a potential hazard was met with haphazard concern.
With that unadulterated view, we munched on mouth watering appies of samosas, shrimp and date rolls, fresh hot fries and freshly squeezed OJ while slurping up the view of our no window sunset.
Crashing another local birthday party following dinner poolside, we hit the VVIP club. Much to my chagrin, this private access area meant that while the millennials were glued to their devices, I was left to my own devices as well. The one critique of my clubbing experiences in West Africa is that I’m not a fan of the sit-and-bop/sit-and-hookah/sit-and-post on social media style of “dancing”. Nope, not me.
I want to glue my eyes on the guys that have rhythm, who dance with their soul and who make muscles move miraculously.
While I was hoping for at least one night out, clearly this trip has been much too generous on that front. Decked out (again Cinderella style) for the second night of jammin’, I modified the outfit she loaned and danced in heels tied with spiraling bling half way up my shin … when in Guinea act (and dress) like Guineans nuh?
The day saw us sailing off to Room Island where our private boat gave a glimpse into the laid back beauty of their backyard. Lads equipped with six-packs lurked at the water’s edge, ready to piggyback anyone who was trepid of the tepid waters. We hugged around the island’s periphery, passing locals who were as eager to sell local crafts as they were ready to lounge.
At its opposite end, we settled into the scene, rocky boulders offering an intimate and immersive vantage point of the confluence of land and ocean. I caught some cool snaps of the sprays as they slowed mid air on the descent, making their way back to the Ocean even after forcefully abutting the ragged rocky edge.
Therein, I was reminded of Tipu, the water drop who separates only briefly then returns back to her original abode. This moment, as with many beach moments where the sun softly bronzes my body and brain, I feel free.
Perhaps it’s like the snippet of the sprinkle - that brief time lapsed dance of the water drop that saunters in the sky - so too, I know my being needs to also find her way back to the Ocean, while balancing the opinions and opportunities of the modern world.
Having these types of philosophical convos in a setting like this made the mysteries of the world seem more simple, surreal and surprisingly, somehow attainable. The boulder talks, the games that ensued and sketching in the sand made the adult me meet my younger and older self, all in one.
Back to the no window sunset at the hotel, I felt grateful to Guinea for showcasing a land I would never think to journey to … had it not been for being open to life’s adventures.
May we soak up what life offers us, before the sun sets and it’s time to return,