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I arrived Ziguinchor in Casamança region of Senegal around 7pm that evening and not wanting to sleep in that town, I continued my journey to Guinea Bissau. Meanwhile, at the park, direct vehicles to Bissau have closed operation for the day. My reason for this impatience was not just because I was going to a new country, but because I was visiting a country that speaks Portuguese as their lingua franca – a language I’ve been learning for a while. Visiting this place will be the first time of practicing speaking Portuguese with someone/people face to face apart from a few times I had spoken online with a friend. Allez-vous à Bissau ? Je peux t’aider traverser la frontière et t’amène au Saint Domingo pour 4000CFA. A black-slim man called out to me from his motorbike. He assumed I was going to Bissau, probably because he saw me making enquiries at Bissau’s carpark. He wanted to help me cross the border to where I could get a car to Bissau. We agreed on a price and left for the journey. The road was good until we left the Senegalese side of the border. Senegalese soldiers at the border informed me that I can’t have my passport stamped because the immigration officers have closed for the day around 7:30pm when we arrived. They advised me to continue my journey and explain to the immigration officers at the Guinea Bissau side that I could not stamp because the Senegalese side’s closure. I picked up courage and continued. At a point, our motorbike broke down on the very bad road that led to the Bissau Immigration. It was funny my torchlight, which I lighted to help him repair the motor bike was brighter the headlamp of the motorbike. It was after this he decided to use my phone’s torchlight to drive. This taught me the need to always travel with a good torchlight. Back on the bad road, I was very excited for the fact I was going to speak Portuguese face to face in some minutes but was also bothered on what effect not stamping my passport out of Senegal would have on me when I enter and exit Guinea Bissau. I was also concerned if this guy moving me on his motorbike had evil intentions against me because the road was bad, bushy and deserted. It was a mixture of fear and excitement. I wondered if I would ever experience any of these experience in my life. In a couple of minutes, we arrived the Guinea Bissau immigration post at Saint Domingo. Stopping me at a safe distance, Boubakar, the motorbike rider asked me to go to the immigration for stamp, it was a small house that was lighted with the widows wide open. Inside this office sat this young immigration officer who was evidently tired. My heart pounded as I was not sure if he will allow me in due to my unstamped passport and the fact that I may not understand his Portuguese. Boa noite! I said and he responded same. Tu vai para onde? He queried. He was asking where I was going to. At this point, I could not hold my smile. I was very excited because I could understand him – very much like the same I hear on tele and on the internet. I told him in Portuguese that he was the first person that I would converse in Portuguese face to face with. The smiles on my face had infected him as I could see him smiling back. Even though I was taking my time to make my sentence in Portuguese, word after word, he was patient corrected me when necessary. I tried to explain why I did not stamp on the Senegalese border but those details did not seem to border him. He took my passport, stamped it, recorded my details and returned it to me without asking for money which is a commonplace on that route. When I was leaving he said… Eu sou... He was trying to tell me his name even though I did not get it. I smiled back and told him mine, gave him a handshake and left exited!