We drive with our open jeep through the streets of the Gambia. I stare outside and my eyes, nose and ears are fighting over what they see, hear and smell. Street life in the Gambia is inspiring, colorful, amazing and sad at the same time. This is one of those beautiful countries on Earth where you would like to have a camera in your eyes. The streetscapes are indescribable vividly that you would love to capture everything that you see at that exact same time. How cliché it may sound, sometimes a picture says more than a thousand words. But I’ll try.

Large clouds of dust and sand form behind us while we’re driving on the streets. Birds are chirping merrily, sitting on vibrating power cables, below a herd of goats move slowly. The sound of the birds are mixed with horns, laughter, singing and shouting. Proud women walk with heads held high along the way, hope and fear hidden among colorful sleeves. A house formed by tires and corrugated iron seems a loving home for the family that is smiling at me. A tangle of human and animal life are moving on the streets between bags of rice, meat, iron beds, wooden posts, hunks, burning fire, rusty carts and cars. Red sand mixes with flowery dresses. Buildings without a door, open for weal and woe. A donkey, loom of the heat, pulls a cart with one wheel. Little people are bound on bodies like heaps of love. Positivity stacked as a mountain of laundry on proud faces with amazing eyes. Hands waving cheerfully, children with a smile from ear to ear. Touching large feet under racing legs. Waving towels on the clothesline, wealth and poverty in between. An incalculable number of impressions of an organized chaos in no more than a second. It’s an incredibly image full of color, life and phenomenal beautiful people. The clear blue sky is the only thing that remains unchanged, the smile of the Gambia still long in my mind.