The girl passed by. Her blue dress flowed to the floor. She pulled her foot high as she stepped over the outstretched leg of a passenger. She’d walked the route a few times. The first couple of times, only stopping when she saw a hand waving money. Two women sat on the bench across from me. Unconcerned about the girl selling water, they chatted among themselves.
The ferry moved across the Gambia River slowly, the air thick with the sweat of the passengers. Other entrepreneurs sold socks and phone chargers. There was something for everyone. A second girl, water carefully balanced on her head, ignored someone’s request for water. The women across the aisle, shot off a quick text. A moment later, the girl in the flowing blue dress returned.
I watched the young woman every time she passed by me. I looked at the full water bottle in my bag, but I still put my hand up. Searching my wallet, I found a large bill and showed her. The young woman dug in her purse for a moment, looked up at the women on the bench, shaking her head. One of the women dug into her bag, still talking to her friend. It was then that I noticed the bags of empty water bottles sitting at their feet.
Finally, she handed me an assortment of bills and coins. I trusted them.
I drank my water and handed the empty bottle to the women.