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It is 6 p.m. when we moor the boat to a meager muddy platform that serves as a port and from which rises an overhanging staircase leading to the village. I remove my flip flops to make walking in the mud easier. And I climb slowly, gasping. I stop, catch my breath and go again. The bags are heavy and this staircase is steep! At the top of the steps, a long and thin dirt road opens before us. The distribution of wooden houses erected on stilts sheltered from heavy rains. Their large roofs are woven from very resistant palm leaves. In the middle of the passage, dogs, hens and pigs rub shoulders. At nightfall, their smells mix with that of the wood fire charged with humidity. The birds start their nocturnal conversations punctuated by the last noises of boat engines. And the sky gently fills up with stars. We walk by the light of our torches to the shelter reserved for visitors to the community. So we set up our tents on the cement screed poured in front of the grocery store of Gloria and Walter. Then we go to a neighbor's house for dinner. On the menu, fish soup and fried bananas. After the meager chicken soup this morning, I throw myself hungry on my plate. While the boys tell their incredible adventures. But we are tired and everyone goes back without dragging into their tent. The tent invites to another trip. It gives a unique intimacy with nature while protecting from the frightening stranger. I like to sleep in this false fort. I slip into the sleeping bag the very moment a pouring rain starts. It will not stop until early morning. But still dry, I remember the day: the trip, the boat splitting the peaceful water of the river, and the politeness of the inhabitants of the village; all greet, know and live together. I hope they will accept me. I find it hard to sleep so I go out of the tent to get some fresh air. When suddenly, a powerful light loving my gaze towards the starry sky. Here, the night installs a certain serenity. And the stars make it even more precious. We would almost touch this velvet painting from this region of the world. And what makes these nights even more magical are the unpredictable invasions of stars that fly from one end of the sky to the other. But this time, they are not simple stars passing through the universe, but a huge ball of fire which tears the sky in a fraction of seconds. Big as a full moon, it disintegrates until it turns to dust. Words are very weak to describe this miraculous spectacle which plunged me in the most beautiful wonder. I want to wake up my comrades and tell them everything! I want to shout the beauty and the power of what I just witnessed! The universe is vast and still full of mysteries. But it is always there, around us, even if sometimes we do not see higher than the buildings or the clouds. What rationality can then exist when the universe suddenly reminds you that you are floating in nothingness? I ignore everything and only the present moment counts. But this event inevitably encourages me to develop new reflections on our quest for life. It reminds me of the absurdity of our small occupations and the grotesque of the roles in which we lock ourselves. Without forgetting the plaintive game in which we excel daily. And which we revel in because it distracts us. It's stupid when you think about it. Why do we live like this? Why are we not able to live in cohesion and why individualism or communism divide us so much? Why can't we live without so many rules, is our behavior the most appropriate? Why this need for comfort, security? Why is human pride so strong that it persuades him that he can control everything? Why are we?