wandering through kindia: chaos, coffee, and confused goats

the air here tastes like dust and possibility, and i’m not even sure which one i’m breathing more of. kindia. never heard of it before last week. now i can’t stop talking about it like i’ve been here my whole life. the numbers? yeah, 2419533 and 1324348910. no clue what they mean either. maybe they’re coordinates. maybe they’re just my brain trying to make sense of the heat.

anyway, i just checked and it’s 23.57°c right now, feels like 23.34°c, which is basically perfect if you’re into that whole “not sweating through your shirt by 9am” vibe. humidity’s at 52%, pressure’s holding steady at 1011. basically, the weather’s doing its thing and i’m just here for it.

i heard someone say the market here is a “must-see.” i’m not sure who “someone” was-could’ve been the guy selling phone chargers or the woman yelling at her goat-but i trusted them. and yeah, the market is chaos. in the best way. colors everywhere. smells that make you question your life choices. and the people? they look at you like you’re either a lost tourist or a walking ATM. maybe both.

if you get bored, conakry and mamou are just a short drive away. or so i’ve been told. i haven’t left kindia yet because leaving feels like admitting defeat. and i’m not ready for that kind of commitment.

*coffee here is a whole thing. i mean, it’s not good* coffee, but it’s coffee. and that’s enough for me. someone told me that the best cup is at this tiny stall near the bus station. i went. i drank it. i didn’t die. success.

overheard gossip: “the bakery on the corner? total scam. they charge you extra for air.” i laughed. then i bought bread there. it was fine. maybe i got charged for air. maybe i didn’t. who’s counting?

the streets here are alive in a way that makes you forget about your phone. or maybe that’s just because the wifi is a myth. either way, i’m here for it. the goats, the dust, the random conversations that make no sense but feel important anyway.

“you’re not from here, are you?” - a kid who probably knew more about my life than i do.

i keep thinking about those numbers again. 2419533. 1324348910. maybe they’re a code. maybe they’re just random. but they’re mine now. kind of like kindia. it’s not mine, but it feels like it is. for now.

if you’re into messy, unpredictable travel, kindia’s your spot. just don’t expect luxury. or predictability. or a decent cup of coffee. but hey, that’s the charm, right?

for more on guinea, check out Lonely Planet or TripAdvisor. and if you’re brave enough to visit kindia, bring snacks. and maybe a goat. they seem to run the place.