Fifth Journey Day 190: Sound Between Goat Bells

Date: November 14, 2025
Location: Bafatá, Guinea-Bissau

In Bafatá, in the heart of Guinea-Bissau, the day moved with the slow certainty of the dry season. Cashew groves, red earth, and river air met a heat that gathered dust and let it settle again by dusk—an everyday cadence that shapes how color sits on objects and how sound carries across streets.

Heat and Hush

The day started with quiet. I woke up early, not because of the light, but because of the sound of goats moving across the street — their hooves hitting the packed earth, creating a hollow, rhythmic sound that woke me up. The room felt stuffy for a moment before the fan started spinning, mixing the warm air with the quiet calls outside.

Quiet Moments at a Crossroads Café

I walked to a small café by the crossroads. The chairs were mismatched, and the air smelled faintly of fruit and smoke. I sat for two hours with a glass of something cold that tasted like lime and dust, watching the street go by. Children carried buckets of water, a woman balanced fabric on her head, and from time to time, a gust of wind swept the edge of the tablecloth into a wave. Nothing much happened, but it felt good.

A Rhythm Older Than Movement

There's a certain rhythm here that feels older than movement — a patience I can't yet match. The light falls differently on objects, almost reluctant to leave the surface. When a goat walked through the café's open doorway and stopped as if to think, no one reacted. Its quiet presence made perfect sense to the room.

Light That Absorbs

In the late afternoon, I walked to the edge of town, where the air smelled a little like dust and wood ash. I thought about how colors change in dry places — how even brightness feels muted, as if wrapped in breath. I think I'll try to paint that feeling of light absorbing instead of reflecting.

Night Sounds, Near and Far

Tonight, the air is cooling but still heavy. Beyond the wall, a metal bowl hits the stone. The rhythm moves through the dark like a thought that you almost remember.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Hot and heavy, about 32°C; dry sweetness in the air with fine dust rising in the afternoon breeze and settling again by dusk.
• Scents: A faint mix of fruit and smoke in the café; later, dust and a curl of wood ash near the edge of town.
• Sounds: Goat hooves on packed earth, soft voices on the street, a fan turning slow circles, wind lifting a tablecloth, and at night a metal bowl tapping stone.
• Reflection: A patience in Bafatá’s pace—light that seems to absorb into surfaces, and a rhythm between small sounds that steadies the day.

Continue the Journey

You may also enjoy reading about yesterday’s quiet reflections, or linger with another moment from this Guinea-Bissau journey.