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MidReal Story
Oraga A Journey Through Time
Scenario: Diario de viagem. Onde o ceu e a terra se encontram num beijo. Ilha de Orango, Bijagos na Guine Bissau. Inedita viagem no lendario reino das mulheres que perpetuam a linhagem, dos sorrisos largos e coração aberto, onde ao partilhar uma comida se dao as boas vindas. Onde a natureza ficou parada no tempo, abrigando o mar, a praia, os peixes , as tartarugas e os hipopotamos. O reino dos Oraga. Em formato para postagem no facebook e Instagram
9 dias de viagem, 3 de caminhadas, 7 noites em hospedagem full board, deixe-se por nossa conta. Capa da publicação com foto
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Sara
She is a curious and adventurous traveler visiting Orango Island in GuineaBissau. She is openminded,resilient,and enthusiastic. Sara experiences the unique culture of the island,where women maintain lineage,and enjoys stunning natural beauty. She faces challenges during a solo trip but remains determined. Sara forms a connection with local guide Ali,learning about island traditions and appreciating its untouched charm. Her journey is documented through photographs and notes on her travel diary.
Ali
He is a local guide on Orango Island,GuineaBissau. He is knowledgeable,friendly,and patient. Ali serves as Sara's companion during her 9day trip to the island. He shares insights into the island's culture and customs,such as the tradition of women preserving lineage. Ali's expertise in navigation and local knowledge ensures Sara's safety on the island. His warm demeanor and smile contribute to a sense of belonging and mutual respect between them as they explore the island together.
Where the sky and the earth meet in a kiss.
Orango Island, Bijagos, Guinea-Bissau.
The journey began 9 days ago, but I had been preparing myself for a year.
I finally made up my mind to take the plunge and visit this legendary kingdom of women who perpetuate the lineage, because where they are concerned, the man is only a passing shadow, while the woman remains as solid as the earth.
They preserve the lineage and inherit the property, and they do it all with wide smiles and open hearts.
When I arrived on Orango Island, I was welcomed with a meal they had prepared for me: rice, fish, and vegetables.
They invited me to join them and share the meal with them, and then they showed me my room.
The next day, I started exploring the island in the company of my guide Ali.
The beaches remained untouched by time just like the people who live there; no crowds of tourists or buildings under construction.
The sea remained calm and peaceful as if it were asleep.
And when I walked along the beach, I felt like I was walking on clouds.
Suddenly in the distance I saw movement; I focused my eyes and saw a turtle coming out of the sea onto the beach.
I stood there motionless, not daring to move any closer, while she was dragging herself out of the surf.
Ali touched my shoulder, and I understood that I had to crouch lower.
We were about thirty feet away from her and watched as she tested the sand with her flippers, advancing inch by inch up the beach.
The morning sun was still low on the horizon, so it cast long shadows over her wet shell.
I raised my camera to my eye and followed her as she crawled across the sand.
Her neck stretched out with each movement, then pulled back in again before stretching out once more.
When she reached a spot near the dunes, she stopped.
"She’s choosing her nesting site," Ali whispered to me.
We watched in silence as she began to dig, knowing we were witnessing the beginning of a new cycle.
The turtle's movements became more deliberate as she dug deeper into the sand with her back flippers.
Ali whispered some facts about their nesting habits, but I was too engrossed in watching her rhythmic scooping motions to pay much attention.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the beach, but we remained still, crouched in our hiding spot.
My legs started cramping from the position, but I dared not shift and risk startling her.
After nearly an hour of digging, the turtle finally positioned herself over the nest she'd created.
I reached for my camera, moving in slow motion so as not to scare her away.
"Ali, why did she choose this spot?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Because this sand holds a secret," Ali replied, his eyes never leaving the turtle.
"What secret?" I pressed, sensing there was more to this than just instinct.
As the turtle finished laying her eggs, she began covering the nest with sand.
Through the gaps in her movements, I noticed something unusual in the depression she'd dug.
I squinted, trying to make out what looked like deliberate lines carved into the packed sand beneath.
Ali noticed my attention shift and inched closer.
The turtle's methodical sweeping slowly revealed more of the marking.
When she finally lumbered away toward the water, Ali and I approached the nest site.
He knelt down and carefully brushed away loose sand around the edges, exposing what appeared to be an intricate pattern worn deep into the compressed ground.
I leaned closer to examine it, and Ali traced the grooves with his fingertip.
The design resembled a spiral with smaller circles branching off from it, each containing symbols I didn't recognize.
"These are ancient markings left by the women of Orango," Ali explained, his voice filled with reverence.
"They mapped sacred sites across the island, places where the earth holds generations of wisdom."
I pulled out my journal and began sketching the pattern, my hand shaking slightly as I tried to capture every detail.
The setting sun cast long shadows across the beach, making the grooves appear deeper, more mysterious.
Ali stood up and brushed sand from his knees.