My love for St. Louis … or the love of contrasts
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St. Louis exhibits humility in the history of man in what is immutable and entry determined the continent in the modern world. It crosses Fulani herdsmen in their traditional outfits alongside young professionals and their tablets, 4X4 gleaming and horse carts. If docks are agitated, they are still driven by wandering goats, meandering between pensioners playing checkers and young skaters, while on the river gently glide rare sailing canoes
We always welcome is celebrated among neighbors, Muslim or Catholic, family or religious holidays. We like to share with Mauritanian traders and women selling on the sidewalks, poutargues and fabric sails, to invite over tea at the jewelers. It was fun, the descent of the Faidherbe bridge, talk to the cobbler or public writer to follow the ballet fast cars, to praise women’s energy sinners, carrying in taxis clando ageless, heavy bowls of fresh fish.
St. Louis is my space of coexistence and tolerance that only the city can be proud of. This respect for diversity from its history makes it very modern today, in a world where the temptation of withdrawal resurfaced.
An archipelago in the heart of the delta of the river, and 3 contrasting spaces, linked by bridges, different, but interrelated, underlying an apparent languor reveal energy treasures …
Langue de Barbarie, with Guetndar, laborious fishing district, who commands respect and love go hours fish landing and when the armada of the Holy louisiennes canoes proudly leave the city by the small arm of the river , to face the ocean. Sor and excitement of small market stalls and working people from all over the country and sub-region: street vendors, tinsmiths, tailors, carpenters, revendeuses deproduits of gardening … The island languid and old buildings, through which casually elegant driankés * swarms of students with colorful gowns or a string of men held erased for Friday prayers. St. Louis, contrasting sounds and colors, sometimes bright and sometimes tender; beauty of a changing with the seasons and tides river and an immensely starry sky, which makes us infinitely small. I love more than anything installed on the porch of the house, let me wear at dusk, by the sweet sounds that animate: words and prayers whispered, crackling small furnaces lit sidewalks, babbling children, last birdsong in the palms, bleating goats homecoming and thud of the ocean. St. Louis is my space of coexistence and tolerance that only the city can be proud of. This respect for diversity from its history makes it very modern today, in a world where the temptation of withdrawal resurfaced.