I was just looking outside of my hostel, at the vibrant mosque in front of me, and I was taking a picture, because I liked the contrast of the building’s white walls with the green of the minaret and the roof, and that is when the police officer came up. By instinct I turned around and walked away, and that made it worse. He was running, and shouting something, either in Somali or Arabic or some other language of the region I wouldn’t be able to make out, because I don’t speak anything of this part of the world, just some basic French, and obviously English, a but few people here speak in these languages.
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