In the Desert

After two weeks in Sahara, I've discovered that Laayoune is a place of strong family ties. Every night, when the temperature declines and there is a mild breeze in the air, the whole family gathers on a big carpet outside to drink sugary tea and talk long into the late hours. Family meaning aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents, cousins and other neighbours – I have yet to figure out all the relationships in my family. The first few nights it struck me how incredibly friendly and welcoming the Saharawis are – and how happy they seemed with their everyday life. Time is a different concept here than at home. As the father in my family, Abdullah, pours tea from one cup to the other to make the foam, friends drop by to join the conversation, children run around from house to house and the day passes by slowly. For over 30 years the Saharawis have been waiting here for their referendum.

While life in the camps might be an interesting four-months adventure for a nineteen year-old Norwegian, this is by no means a good solution for the Saharawis. No one in my family has work outside the house, the children go to school but it's unknown whether they'll actually get to use their education in a relevant job. Killing time cruising around with a Land Rover with the oldest boys in my family is certainly fun, but over time this is perhaps not particularly meaningful. Lack of work is a major problem in the camps and simply waiting for a solution to the occupation can be very tiresome.

We have become friends with several people working for Polisario's army, who have told us about the increasing willingness to return to the war. I hope that never happens. All the Saharawis want is a diplomatic solution with Marrocco, but it is very difficult to influence this process when destined in the camps. “Insh-Allah” says Leyla, the mother in my family, and drinks the tenth cup of tea for the day. Hoping, that is all they can do.