Mali

Friday 1/02/2009 - Segoukoro, Segou

We woke up at 6:30 am after a delightful sleep and took nice, hot showers in the modern western-style bathroom. We took a few moments to re-organize our luggage, spreading into daypacks in addition to the carry-on duffel bags we had brought. Now our large bags could be packed away in or on top of the car, and we would have what we needed in our daypacks. I went out onto the 6 inch deep balcony to take some photos. We saw men and women on motorscooters passing by the front of the hotel. A child led a blind person down the street. The morning light shone brightly on the tree-lined street and the flagpoles in front of the hotel.

We went downstairs to the dining room for breakfast shortly before the appointed 8 o'clock meeting time. We had the breakfast buffet, which consisted of fresh pineapple, watermelon, crepes, bread, cold cuts, pastries, fried plantains, a beef/onion mixture, cheese, orange juice, and Nescafe. We didn't know what the day had in store for us in terms of a food schedule, so we all ate the delicious food with gusto.

Assou, the owner of the local tour operator Saga Tours whom we had met last night, arrived in his bright white robes. We chatted with him and he gave us some logistical information for the next few days. Bahini arrived with a new SIM card which he had purchased for Pam, so that she could hopefully use her new Blackberry here. We set up Communication Central, with everyone taking down everyone else's contact numbers and entering the information into their phones. Everyone was checking to see what kind of cell phone coverage they had here. Craig sat back with a smirk on his face thinking how pathetic the whole thing was, as the only phone-less person at the table, and probably the country.

After eating, we went back to our rooms to gather our luggage. I noticed the sign on the back of the door to our room which was amusing: "In case of fire in your room: 1) Close your windows 2) Call the reception, if you can. 3) Keep cool." Literal as well as figurative, and so succinct. We met Bouba the driver outside in the parking lot as he loaded our bags into and on top of the white Toyota Land Cruiser. Bouba began to call Craig "General", we suppose because Craig was the only man in our group of 5. Bouba formally saluted him with a broad smile, kicking the heels of his shoes together and causing quite a few laughs, and we piled into the vehicle...Bahini and Pam in the way-back, Craig, myself, and Tina in the back, and Susan in the front with Bouba.

We were all anxious to get going and see some of this country's diverse landscape. We had our first daylight glimpse of the Niger River as we drove over its blue waters on the bridge on our way out of Bamako. A bank building towered on the shore; the tallest building in Bamako. Very modern, but also very traditional Malian in style. Many different conveyances shared the roads: donkey carts, tour buses, cars (mostly Mercedes), 4-wheel drive vehicles like ours, motorscooters, and motorcycles. Many people were walking, carrying various items with them. One man had a sewing machine propped up on his shoulders as he crossed the bridge. We passed a large stadium (Stade du 26 Mars) where the Pan African games were held.

We wanted to buy a case of bottled water before hitting the road. We stopped at a couple of roadside convenience stores, but the first two were out of water. This made us a little nervous; if bottled water was this hard to find in the capital city of Bamako, it could be problematic once we got to more isolated areas, such as Timbuktu. The third time, however, was a charm, as we found a small store which had cases of water in stock. (Of course, I almost got run over by a car crossing the street from our car to the store; I hadn't realized how fast the cars were going, and caused a car to screech its brakes as it swerved around me. I hoped that this was not an inauspicious start to the trip.)

A couple of children were hanging around us as Bouba and Bahini bought the case of water, including a rather clingy toddler. It turned out that these were Bouba's sons, saying goodbye to him for the next 14 days during which he would be driving us around the country. We loaded the case of water into the back of the car and continued on our way down a nice, surprisingly smooth tarmac road. We passed a large swath of single family homes, very boxy and generic, and we were told that they were government housing. We saw some construction work on the side of the road - men were swinging pickaxes into the hard ground, digging a trench by hand. It seemed to be quite difficult labor, and we wondered if the land would be as hard as this when we needed to dig a garden for our service project.

we looked out the windows and were fascinated with everything we saw. The shoulder was comprised of reddish dirt, and yellow grass, scrub brush, and trees decorated the landscape. Majestic baobab trees displayed seed pods which looked like Christmas ornaments hanging from their boughs. There were many goats on the side of the road.We quickly learned how to identify mosques - they have a star and crescent moon on the top and have loudspeakers to broadcast the call to prayer. By the time we reached Bamako Fana, we were in need of a rest room break. Bouba, who didn't speak English, caught right on. "Pee-pee!" he announced joyously, and he and Bahini decided on a suitable place. As this was a village area, Bahini spoke to a family with whom he was acquainted, who led us into their mud brick compounds, through a courtyard, and let us use their latrines. The women and children greeted us very politely. The children seemed very curious about why a group of Americans were using their bathroom, and they tried to communicate with us. Tina and I went to the left and found ourselves in a courtyard where some children were looking after their chickens. Tina rounded the corner to use the latrine first.

When I showed interest in the chickens and baby chicks, one of the young boys went over to them and showed them to me. The chicken's leg was tied to a metal pot so that it would not wander away. He then gestured to a folding chair and offered me a seat. We sat there smiling at each other until it became my turn to use the bathroom, which was a tidy hole in the ground. Craig, Pam, and Susan had gone to the right and found themselves in a similar courtyard with a similar latrine. once everyone was finished, we thanked the family again, and got back into the car and continued on our way.

We turned off the main road to visit Segoukoro (which translates to "Old Segou"), which had once been the center of the Bambara kingdom. As we got out of the car, young children descended on us. As we looked at the well which had been dug there with the assistance of a foreign government, the kids held our hands. Some of them wanted to have their photos taken; others asked for our water bottles or candy. One boy pointed at my watch and then to his own wrist. Bahini spoke to them and told them if they were good and didn't pester us, he would give them candy at the end of the visit. We hoped that he was telling the truth; we knew that we didn't have any candy to give them.

We were guided around the town, through alleyways between mud buildings. The buildings had surface cracks, looking like every ounce of moisture had been evaporated away from the mud by the sun. The buildings were the same reddish color as the flat, dusty ground, with corrugated metal doors and roofs. The children were very curious about us. I was admiring the mud architecture and touched one of the walls to feel its texture. Two children came up behind me and touched the wall in exactly the same spot, as if trying to figure out what these white people found so fascinating about their regular old walls. Young girls were carrying baby siblings on their backs. Some children wore shoes (flip flops were the most popular shoe) and others were barefoot, their feet dusty and tough. All of a sudden, a large group of adults poured out into the village. They had all been in the mosque, and prayer time had just ended. It was Friday, the holiest day of the week in Islam. Adults, afraid the children were bothering us, tried to shoo them away, but the children were just too curious and accompanied us anyway.

As we continued our walk through the village, it suddenly opened up onto a gorgeous panorama of of the Niger River. Long narrow wooden boats called pirogues were pulled up onto the shore. One had a fishing net sitting in it. Women were washing clothes in the river and spreading them out to dry on clumps of scrub brush. They were also washing out their metal and plastic pots. A girl carried a large metal bucket on her head. Sticks with nets attached to them stuck out of the water, and we assumed that they were some type of fish trap. Sheep grazed on the sparse green grass on the riverbanks.

I was amazed by the blueness of the water. I realized that for some reason I guess I had expected it to be muddy and brown. Near the river was a raised section of land surrounded by a mud-brick retaining wall. On this area was a mosque and a huge baobab tree, which had many of its roots above ground. You could tell that during the rainy season the whole area below the retaining wall probably flooded. The mosque had a simple door made out of wood planks, and the windows had little wooden trapdoors which could be opened or closed. Bahini explained that the pieces of wood sticking out of the mosque walls were there to act as scaffolding. After the rainy season each year, the mosque must be re-faced with a new coat of mud. The men climb and stand on these pieces of protruding wood to apply the new coat.

The sky was so blue and the sun was so bright that the whole experience seemed like a dream. After days of traveling, we really felt like we had arrived in Mali. This was what we had come for. One young boy had a deep gash on his leg, and he asked us in French if we had any medicine. We didn't have anything with us, and we felt bad. We learned that villagers often ask tourists for medicine, as it can be so hard to come by in Mali, and tourists usually carry a supply with them. We decided that from now on we would always keep our Neosporin handy, in case a situation like this happened again.

Bahini and the local guide (who was wearing a T-shirt which asked "Have a sister?") showed us the tomb of Biton Mamary Coulibaly, who founded the village (and the entire Bambara Empire) in the early 1700's. As we looked at it, two young children peeked at us over a mud fence. We went inside the adjacent building. The inner walls were created by taking straight tree limbs, lining them up side by side, and using mud as mortar. This building is used by the community as a place to settle disputes. On the mud walls inside were carved pictures of goats, horses, tools, etc. Inside it was cool and dark. We could immediately see the benefit of the mud brick architecture. This was not even the hot season but the weather (and especially the sun) were quite warm, but the building stayed nice and cool.

Nearby was the old mosque, which looked more organic and less angular than the newer one nearer to the river. It had the look of a sand castle made with very wet, drippy sand. Litter and debris peppered the dirt streets and alleyways: plastic bags, tire tubes, soles of old broken flip-flops. Donkeys and goats grazed on whatever they could find.

We headed back to the car and Bahini gave some money to one of the older girls. He said something to the kids and they all lined up, single file. One girl who had a baby tied to her back let the baby down and the baby stood in the front of the line. A village woman walked by and wondered why they were standing in such an orderly fashion. Bahini explained that they were waiting for sweets. the woman laughed and jokingly jumped to the front of the line for me to take a photo. The girl to whom he had given the money returned with several bags of candy. Bahini opened the candy and distributed it to all of the children. They were amazingly well-composed, and the kids themselves made sure that everyone got an equal amount, and that everyone had gotten some. It was refreshing to see this kind of cooperation. A man drove by in a donkey cart full of firewood as we piled back into our car, waved goodbye to the children, and headed toward Segou.

After a short 10 km drive, we arrived in Segou (which was 235 km east of Bamako). We checked into the Independance (sic) Hotel. There was a statue of a giraffe out front. How long had it been since a giraffe had roamed the dry sahel of Mali? We didn't count on seeing any. We walked through the courtyard and past the enticing-looking pool to put our things into our room (D2). It featured a double bed and a single bed, a TV, and a bathroom where there was no shower curtain or shower doors to prevent the whole bathroom from getting wet. We were used to this kind of bathroom from our trip to Bhutan in 2007.

We freshened up and headed out to the courtyard to eat lunch at the restaurant. However, by now it was 3 o'clock, and they were no longer serving lunch. Bahini told us that Malian dinner is typically at 8 or 9 o'clock at night. We knew we wouldn't be able to wait that long, so we piled back in the car and headed a couple of miles down the street to find a restaurant.

We ended up at the Restaurant Soliel de Minuit, which also had a giraffe motif. We sat at an outdoor table with a tie-dye tablecloth. Craig enjoyed his first beer of the trip, a Malian beer called Castel. I ordered a Fanta. We had fried chicken with french fries, which really hit the spot. We enjoyed chatting with Tina, Pam, and Susan.

After lunch, Bouba drove us a short way and then we got out to take a walk. We saw some old colonial houses. Some were in disrepair, but others had been restored and were now the offices of various government ministries. We walked along a tree-lined street on the banks of the Niger. Bahini's cousins lived in one of the houses that we passed, and he introduced us. Greetings are very important in Malian society, and when we greeted people on the street with a "bon soir" and a smile they would always return both, and sometimes go into a more elaborate greeting. Then it would become apparent that we don't speak French, and they would give a good-natured laugh and sometimes shake our hands.

Some young boys started to follow us, innocently curious about us. I asked if they wanted a photo and they immediately posed. They got very excited to see the picture. Rather unfortunately, we saw a very new picturesque building with a pile of smoldering trash out front. As we passed the trash pile, we noticed what the building was: an Artisan's Center (Soroble Centre Artisanal de Segou, to be exact). We went through a small arched doorway and emerged in the courtyard. There were mudcloths drying on the ground, partially covered with sand. One of the artisans was creating mudcloths, and we watched the process as he used a paintbrush to paint the cloth with mud.

The Smithsonian Museum has a great site which details the different steps in the mudcloth process. "Bogolanfini" is the Bambara word for mudcloth, a traditional Malian art. Locally grown cotton is woven into strips. These are sewn together and then soaked in a mixture of water and cengura tree leaves. This turns the mudcloth yellow and renders it better able to absorb dye. It is then laid out to dry. The artist lays out the pattern, and paints from the perimeter inward using iron-rich mud. As the mud dries, the cloth absorbs its color. After it is completely dry. it is rinsed and then soaked in a solution of boiling leaves to enhance the color. The final step is to apply caustic soda to any areas which have not been dyed with mud. It bleaches those areas a very bright white.

We wandered around the courtyard and saw weaving looms, plastic buckets full of mud of various shades, and cauldrons bubbling on a fire. The back of the courtyard overlooked the Niger River. The sun was starting to get low in the sky and the light was very pretty. We went into the shop where they sold items made at the artisans' center. There were many different gorgeous mudcloths, as well as some leatherwork. Craig and I bought a very nice green, black, and white mudcloth table runner for a quite reasonable 6000 CFA (around $12). This would make a great bureau scarf for our bedroom.

We exited the courtyard and continued down the street. Right next door were some pirogue-makers, creating the long narrow wooden boats with hand tools. We wanted to take a few minutes to look at them, but Bahini was hurrying us along. We passed many gardens on the floodplains of the river bank. They only exist at certain times of year when the river is low, and take advantage of the nutrient-rich soil that is underwater for other parts of the year. To protect the crops from goats, temporary woven fences separate the gardens, with little organic alleyways leading between the gardens down to the water. We passed some baby goats who were playing with one another. We saw how much climbing is in the goats' nature as they fought one another (head butting and standing on their hind legs) for king-of-the-mountain status on top of a very small rock.

As we walked east, we heard the call to prayer. A man stopped on the side of the road, put down a prayer mat, and prostrated himself in prayer. We turned around to see the sky turning pink and orange as the bright orange orb of the sun slipped quickly below the horizon behind us. We were actually here, watching the sun set over the Niger River! It was hard to believe. We could see the silhouettes of men in boats, slowly working their way down the river. Women washed their bodies in the river water. Children were playing in the street; one little boy rolled a tire with a stick.

There were many pottery "shops" along the riverside, and we admired the orange and black clay items (pots, bowls, ashtrays, collanders, vases, pitchers, water jugs, etc.) displayed in an orderly manner on the ground. A little boy handed us a paper, and from what we could discern, he seemed to be trying to get donations for his soccer team. A group of girls talked to Susan and tried to get her to buy a map that they had drawn. They were very enterprising. Susan arm-wrestled one of them, which the girls thought was very funny.

We passed a red door on which was a painting of Che Guevara and a bottle of soda. "El Che Cola, Mali," it read. We've seen images of Che all around the world - but never selling soda before.

Bahini took us to a small restaurant right on the river where a lot of tourists were hanging out on a patio overlooking the river. The sun had already slipped below the horizon, but the sky was blazing orange in its wake. We thought that perhaps we were going to linger here for a drink. But Bahini swiftly led us to a caged area on the east side of the patio and directed our attention to two caged crocodiles. Although the Niger is historically known for its crocs (and "Bamako" literally translates to "Crocodile River"), it seemed wrong to be ogling them in captivity while a bunch of westerners enjoyed sunset cocktails.

Bahini then ushered us out and we continued walking through town. Children tried to sell us postcards. We did indeed want to send postcards, but Bahini's rush prevented us from looking at the kids' wares. We wondered what we would do next. This was our only night in Segou, and perhaps there was some nighttime entertainment. It was getting dark now and the city took on a whole different ambiance. Before we knew it, we had met up with Bouba and our parked car. He was parked next to an interesting looking market, but we were urged into the car and Bouba drove us straight back to the hotel. It was obvious that Bahini didn't want us to be out after dark, though none of us had any problem with it.

When we got back to the Independance Hotel, Bahini told us that he would meet us at 7 am for breakfast in the courtyard. This was obviously the end of the day's activities, and all we would have left was dinner at the hotel. We were a bit disappointed that we wouldn't be able to explore town more, but we each grabbed a bottle of water for the night and headed back to our rooms.

Susan hadn't slept well the night before, so she decided to skip dinner and get some rest. We met Pam and Tina in the courtyard restaurant for dinner. I had Fanta and Craig got a Flag beer. We both ordered the spaghetti bolognaise. It arrived as a plate of bolognaise followed by a plate of spaghetti. We really enjoyed chatting with Tina and Pam. It had been a wonderful first day in Mali, and we looked forward to what tomorrow might bring.

At around 10:15, we all started to get sleepy and we retired to our room. We had been quite lively at the beginning of dinner, but we now had full bellies and the morning's meeting time of 7 am seemed all too soon. I guess it was a good thing that we hadn't gone out after all. In the room, I realized that we had cell phone coverage here in Segou, and we sent a text message to Steve at home. He replied momentarily. It was nice to feel connected to home, and to be able to give a brief update of our adventures so far. I wrote in the journal until 11:09, and then we went to bed.

Map of Segou

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