Mali…Dry, Hot & Dusty

The stretch of Sahel (from wikipedia)

Before moving to Liberia there were two countries that were top of my list to go. One of then was Gabon where I hope to go later this year or perhaps next year and the second country I wanted to go was Mali. I am glad to write that I just returned from Mali after spending my first home leave for 2011.

The ubiquitous mopeds in Bamako

Bus fares

Not sure how many people know of this West African country but just from my personal experience I am guessing not a lot of people are aware of this country. It was in fact easier for me to say that I was going to Timbuktu which at least was somewhat familiar without knowing where it really was. More on Timbuktu in a later blog.

My bus at right before the dude grabbed my camera

Guy to left who gave up his seat and Helen from Canada

It was February 8th as the plane soared over Bamako, the capital, the shade of the landscape seemed a pale brown and quite removed from the lush green that I am used to seeing in Liberia. This seemed reasonable since I was flying over a region called as Sahel. It is a belt of semi-arid savanna that separates the Sahara desert from the lusher Central part of the continent. The Sahel extends from Senegal on the Atlantic ocean side to the edge of Eritrea by the Red Sea encompassing vast tracts of lands in Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, Algeria, Niger, Nigeria, Chad, Sudan, Somalia, and Ethiopia.

My humble accomodation at the Djenne Junction

The visa on arrival was pretty straight forward for a fee of $40 and as I got out of the airport there was the usual hounding by the taxi drivers. That’s where I met Zakheer who was a Pakistani national working in Bamako. He could speak French and lived there so we took a combination taxi. Zakheer also helped me find a decent accommodation for the night after which we had dinner and he showed me around some suburbs of Bamako.

My ride to Djenne

Ferry

I had read in my travel guide that there nothing extraordinarily special in Bamako to see, so the next morning the focus was to exchange my USD into FCFA (currency used by 8 countries in West Africa including Mali) and head straight to the bus station to catch a bus to the ancient city of Djenné which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. My main pull in Djenné was the Grand Mosque of Djenné which is the biggest independently standing mud structure in the world.

River Bani

Co-hitchhiker

Window view of Djenne Mosque

After getting my bus ticket I had to wait for about an hour so I just walked around and decided to take a picture of my bus. Little did I know that this would cause a big commotion. While I was taking the picture of my bus, one guy who was far away from the frame came charging and grabbed my camera and aggressively started blurting his disagreement in French. At this point, I was pretty bemused and my most pressing concern was the safety of the camera not because of the monetary value of the camera but the fact that it was my first day and a broken camera would ruin my intention of recording my travel in Mali. My secondary concern was that my pockets would not be picked since this could easily be a tactic to divert my attention from my belongings.


Ancient Manuscripts

 

Interiors of the Djenne Mosque



I can understand someone getting angry if I am taking a personal photo of that person without his permission but after traveling around a little I think I know the basic etiquette of either asking before clicking or offering to pay for it, but all I was doing was taking a picture of an inanimate object which I had bought a ticket to ride in. Additionally, the aggressor was not even in the frame of the picture or had anything to do with the bus. This leads me to believe that the man was either just looking for trouble or money or an opportunity to steal something by creating a hullabaloo.

Fortunately, the operator of the bus stepped in and eased the tension but for the next few hours it left a poor impression of the people of Mali. I was left wondering, is this how people are in Mali…like savages. Now that I look back it seems comical how the human mind portrays a picture of a society based on one single incident. My fears where soon dispelled as I met some extremely generous and kind people on the bus. First was this lady sitting beside me who offered me everything that she was either eating or drinking, and then another guy who gave up his seat to Helen, a co-backpacker from Canada and who himself spent the next 6-7 hours standing in the overcrowded bus.

Kids of Djenne

View of Djenne from terrace

The trip from Bamako to Djenné was supposed to take only 8 hours, but I soon learnt that the travel estimates in Mali are just that…estimates and the real time is much more as the buses seem to stop ever so often. I was planning to reach by night fall and then check into a hotel and then explore the city the next day. That idea went out of the window when I woke up around 1:30am after hearing of some activity as the bus came to a halt. I casually enquired if this was the Djenné stop, and after getting the nod, got up to disembark the bus and collect my backpack.

Djenne house (Morrocan Style)



Streets of Djenne



As I stepped out, it was pitch dark and the conductor pointed me in one direction and said “Djenné”. The bus soon took off and here I was, half asleep, have puzzled and wondering where did I get down. Was there a miscommunication due to the language barrier? Was this the right Djenné? The worst thing was that it was 1:30am and no one in sight to ask?


Fortunately, another vehicle came along and I was pointed to a small checkpoint with the word “Police” uttered a few times. I walked up to the check post and knock on the door to find where I was and I soon learnt that Djenné was still 22kms away and I was at the intersection of the main highway and road leading to Djenné. I asked him where I could sleep and he pointed to a small incongruous one room structure. All of this conversation was in sign language as I still have not a clue about French.

The Grand Mosque of Djenne...made exclusively of mud or banco

Picture taken while sipping tea and admiring the sight

This was the first time I was traveling with a sleeping bag and man…was I glad I had it. I just rolled it out, put on my thermal wear, rubbed some mosquito repellent and slept right outside this unassuming structure. As I went to sleep under the star I was like…Viola! Welcome to Mali!

A fula woman with mouth tatoo

The next morning, I woke up early and met a girl from Liechtenstein who had camped at the same spot and I could scarcely believe when she said she had walked all the way from her country and across North Africa and was headed towards Timbuktu. Her plan was to walk back to her country when there would be no more pages on her passport. She had been on the road for a few years and if I was thinking the previous night was as adventure for me, it was put right in perspective by what she was doing!

Mosque from the Fula village

I hitched a ride on a truck-trailer heading in the direction of Djenné until I came across the river Bani where I rode a ferry and on the other side hitched in a pickup to reach Djenné. On my way I met a dude called as Mama Africa who offered to be my host by giving me accommodation and showing me around Djenné. Most of the morning was spent around the beautiful mosque which is a fantastically well preserved example of Sudanese architecture. In fact the whole city of Djenné is a very well preserved representation of mud architecture. I believe that this Sahelien architecture is predominant due to the scant rainfall in the region and the pieces of wood act as reinforcement as well as scaffolding when the buildings are applied with fresh layers of mud every season.

After resting during the hot afternoon hours, we drove across the dried flood plains of the river Bani to visit a Fula village. The Fula (or Fulani or Puel) are one of several ethnic group of Mali who are primarily cattle farmers. The setting of this small mud village with a picturesque mosque at it’s center against the reddish-violet hues of the setting sun made for a beautiful evening.

Village Chief

After the sun set, Mama Africa took me to the opening of an eating joint that had invited a few guest for food and drinks as part of their opening ceremony. It was a very interesting scene, almost like a local bar except that everyone was drinking Fanta, Sprite or Coke instead of alcohol.