1998 Mali – Part 1

Ok, so since these are 'reflections', I am probably forgetting things that happened, or not remembering everything exactly right, but I will put down the essence of my journeys. The parts that stick out, anyway.

Mali is one of the poorest countries in the world, but it has a rich history and was once the crossroads of wealthy trade routes throughout west Africa. In 1998 I went there with a close friend of mine. I was trying to figure out whether Africa was somewhere that I wanted to live and work. I must say, it took me by surprise. Mali may not have been the wisest place to start our trip, as it turned out to be fairly challenging.

We began our voyage in Bamako. First impression of Bamako… can’t really remember, it was the middle of the night when the plane came in. I’m pretty sure that the door of the cab was held closed with a bungy cord. We stayed in a little hotel that had about 2 suites, but the shared bath did have running water. Streets were generally unpaved. Lots of animals. Not a lot of exciting food. I really can’t remember what we ate initially… I think that I must have been in shock.

Oh ya, a memory is coming to me now… I had been to poor countries before, quite a few of them, but it was the first time that I saw people on the streets who I knew were going to die. Soon. And it was the first place where I saw real hopelessness in people’s eyes.



From Bamako we travelled north by bus to Savare, then to Segou, and on to Mopti, then Djenne. Djenne is a beautiful city which is built of sandcastles. These ‘sandcastles’ are actually mudbrick buildings, some built 500 years ago and still maintained. Djenne is a very old city that has been in its current location since 800AD, and the original site of the city (across the river) was apparently built in 250BC. There is a huge mudbrick mosque here. Very beautiful.



Oh, I don't think that I have mentioned prayer. Now, I am not in any means knowledgeable about the Muslim faith, and I especially wasn't at the time. But I loved nothing more than being awoken to the call to prayer every morning at 4:00am. I also loved that buses stop at prayer time. I love that people actually are disciplined enough in their faith to stop everything they are doing, be it sleeping, or travelling, or shopping, and just pray. The melodic sound of the call to prayer bouncing over rooftops was something that echos in my head and heart. Even though we would just stand around and eat watermelon (or whatever) while everyone else prayed.






From Djenne we headed towards Dogon Country, on the edge of the desert. We drove part way to Djibombo, then walked when the road became to rough for the vehicle. In Djibombo they slaughtered a chicken for us to eat. I was a vegetarian, and can’t stand the sight of death, but watching them pray and respectfully and thankfully kill the chicken was memorable.