Once ashore, the salt is then placed in heaps. Initially, it might have a grayish color, but after staying in the sun, it gets white. The good quality salt is put into sacks and sold to Dakar middlemen. Some other Western African countries also get their salt from this lake. The poorer quality salt is loaded onto trucks and transported for processing.
Standing with salt all around us! The ladies in this picture were fairly young. Immediately upon my stepping out of the taxi, they ran (with the quickness) to my side and subsequently followed me around until my tour guide had to stop them. The one to the right could not have been more than 17 years of age. Nevertheless, she had a child and offered him to me. I really did not think that she was all that serious until my tour guide explained that she most definitely was! Oumar stated that since she was poor, she wanted to give her son to me in order to give him a better life full of opportunities. When visiting the third world, one tries to be ready for such encounters, but they still grope at one's heart.
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