JEFF McLEAN'S BLOG | MARTY POUWELSE'S BLOG
- 01/10/2002 - Warts and all... (Mali)
- 14/10/2002 - Timbuktu...Tomboctou...however you say it, it's bloody far away... (Mali)
- 23/10/2002 - Goin' birko over bein' in "Burkina" (Burkina Faso)
- 05/11/2002 - Ouagadougou to Bolgatanga (someone get me a linguistomy fast!) (Ghana)
- 11/11/2002 - Roast to Coast (Ghana)
- 26/11/2002 - Ghana get to Benin and finish this thannnnnnnnnnnng... (Benin)
- 10/12/2002 - Currently slumping in the couch...for a little bit anyway... (Australia)
14/10/2002 - Timbuktu...Tomboctou...however you say it, it's bloody far away... (Mali)
G'day all,
The following mail is in three parts. Firstly, I'll recall a couple of nice parts about Bamako (yes, they do exist) and us leaving the place.
Then comes a "postcard from Mopti".
Finally, you'll get a "postcard from Timbuktu". Sorry about the cliche, but it had to be done. I will try to avoid others... :)
Making up with Bamako
Once we got into the swing of things, Bamako seemed easier. You'll recall from my last post that I was far from enamoured of the place. The touts became less persistent (though we certainly have NOT seen the end of them - as you are about to read) and our regular eating places were joys to visit. Marty had joined me two days into my experience, and from this time we spent long hours talking at our favourite eating places; places that quickly became refuges from the emotional swirl of what was happening outside.
The highlight of Bamako came on our last night when we were treated to a very intense thunderstorm. It went for two hours, and the subsequent rain lasted all night, making our ride out of Bamako an extremely muddy and fun affair. We recorded many excellent lightning bolts on film, and needless to say, some of them may find their way onto any finished film product we create. I was so entranced by the continuity of the lightning bolts that I stayed out in the rain for large periods of time and scored a little cold for myself. The things we do!!!
From Bamako, we jumped on the bus with Pete the trike, and went to San where we got to sample our first piece of peaceful Africa. And what a joy that was. More will come (I am sure) when we leave San again with Pete, and ride the highway down to Burkina Faso. That will be pure magnificence.
Ok, now let's lift the heartrate, increase the excitement, and launch into one of my least favourite places on our glorious planet. Mopti.
Postcard from Mopti
How many of you have had the sauna experience, and know what it's all about? Those of us that have 'treated' ourselves to a sauna know that the heat is quite uncomfortable, and yet it is very good for us. Saunas make us desire to get out of them, and after suffering them for some time we finally act and move out into the cool.
In the cool we can rest, bring our heart back to normal, relax and enjoy life knowing that we have done something good for ourselves. Something that was hard to endure, but something that was good.
However, no sooner are you out in the cool than you realize that one spell in the sauna doesn't do anyone any good. To get that weight down - to get to where you want to go - you have to get back in that uncomfortable bloody sauna.
There, in a nutshell, is our experience so far in Mali. Bamako was our first sauna spell. Mopti has been our second - the shock wasn't so big, but the repressive "heat" is still there. The "cool" in the middle is San. Thank goodness we're returning to that mental oasis!
Mopti - if it is the hub of tourism in Mali, then the whole wheel desperately needs a rebuild. Let there be no doubt that if you sport a backpack in Mopti, then in typical Warner Brothers Looney Tune fashion, the locals will see you as a chock-full wallet with legs, complete with generous hand poised above it, for good measure.
Let's take an example very close to this e-mail. As I was writing the first draft of this mail - a draft I consequently lost and have had to re-write - Marty my travelling buddy was finishing his Internet session.
Now, at just over A$7 per hour, Internet here ain't cheap! Marty finished his session with 2 hours and 4 minutes on the....What's that I hear?....Did you gasp??...Did you dare think they MAY have charged him for those four minutes???
YES! Go to the top of the class! Maybe you'd like to start a business in Mopti! Oh, and you'd better just bump that up to 8 minutes worth - just to be up with the locals (they actually did that!)
* * * * *
Wow! I know I'm scathing. I also realize that this is an economy that really NEEDS the money. The IMF (International Monetary "Fund") and the World Bank have been screwing with West Africa (and many other parts of the world) for well over 20 years now; since we "generously" offered loans to those nations with all that excess money we had left over from the oil boom. Loans that "we" knew would be unpayable given these countries ability to generate their own income. It seems like it was a great way to keep the poor countries poor, and ensure the status of the world leaders at the time. It is a shame that the leaders of these countries succumbed to the pressure at the time, and took the loans. Now, unfortunately, it will only be the generosity of the powerful that can release some of this pressure from these overburdened countries.
I guess, putting it all into a loose perspective, that it's a kind of karma; that they are getting their own back on the westerners that seem to have caused a large part of their financial burden. But it does nothing for their reputation on the traveller's grapevine if they continue in this vein. If the prices continue to be comparable with, or more expensive than, those in the west, then business is sure to fall further - especially when the standards are nowhere near ours.
So let me get back to "le reason d'etre en Mopti" - why are we here at all?
This is our only real way to get to Tomboctou (Timbuktu) with our available time. We will hop on a boat to speed us out of this town, and I hope we don't return. The reasons will become clear in the next section of this mail.
Postcard from Timbuktu
So, what happened after Mopti? We had a ball - for a while.
Getting onto the boat was the beginning of the pleasure, especially since my last few hours in Mopti resulted in a death threat that was so joyfully levelled at me. Now, before some of you (especially family) keel over in horror, I need to explain two things... (a) I kept a very low profile after this, and (b) it has happened to quite a number of tourists from this particularly inebriated individual.
It was nice to find that out, I can tell you. Still, it does nevertheless shake one from one's foundation (if I can sound so removed from the situation for a moment!)
It all happened when this guy sidles up to one of the girls in our group and starts putting the hard word on her saying that she'd promised him a cuddle when she quite clearly had NOT! I intervened by sitting up and looking straight at him until he ceded. About an hour later, he followed another girl from our group as she walked in the dark back to her hotel. I could not let this happen - I got anxious for her, so I decided to follow somewhat close behind and make sure she was OK, while remaining out of sight. That plan was foiled when he turned back unexpectedly and saw me. This obviously disgusted him, and he went back to his mates who were hovering around our group. The alcohol kicked in more and more and the comments eventually got to their less than calming nadir, and I was just bloody glad when we got on the boat at last...
Needless to say, we're not going back to Mopti, and nor are we going for a tour through Dogon Country, where that individual (and the first bastard I encountered in Bamako) comes from.
After having said all this, the Malians we have come in contact with that have nothing to do with the tourist trade are excellent. I would suggest to people that they come to Mali - I would just suggest they avoid Mopti, Timbuktu and Dogon Country unless their guide is already sorted before they arrive.
So, getting back to the boat, finding ourselves on the roof of that boat on that less-than-happy Thursday night was serendipitous indeed! We did not wait for our ticket to be inspected. As soon as it was possible to get on the boat, Marty and I and our four new friends charged onto the boat, and I just made a B-line for anywhere that was people-less and that may have a path or staircase to the terrace. We had heard that the roof may be the best place to get a space on the floor, and it would be cool in the nights, and just hassle-free.
Please keep in mind that we were sold our fourth (lowest) class fares from an 'infinite' pool of tickets. We had no idea what class of hell we'd find, and how many co-habitants we'd have there, but we were hellbent on finding the nicest part of that Hades for ourselves, and claiming that space as our own land. With a huge flurry of activity, I happily scrambled up onto the roof which should NOT have been used to take passengers, clambering up the none-too-safe scaffolding at the back of the boat. It was lovely to report to everyone that there was ample space up there, and they should follow. (There was actually a staircase onto the roof, but that was barred for our entire journey.)
However, there was noooo way any of us would have stayed on the bottom floor of the boat with "excrement" and "micturition" and myriad food particles and accompanying people floating around in a humanized clump of stuff so close to the river water that the smallest white cap could flush the whole deck clean of goods and chattels.
Such is the excitement of this travel - I can safely say we are all loving it.
Now we find ourselves in the fabled Timbuktu. It's dusty as you'd expect, but for the independent traveller it is quite far from the romantic place you'd expect. Think ten parts romance, thirty parts flyblown, thirty parts is-that-a-guide-following-us-AGAIN?, fifteen parts sand and fifteen parts overpriced, and you have a very accurate picture of what this place is like. Needless to say, I will NOT be paying $15 for a stamp of Timbuktu in my passport. That's just too much like fools being easily parted from their money!
This may indeed be the first mail from Timbuktu any of you have received. It is almost certain to be the last such mail you'll receive from me.
Hopefully the next mail you'll get from me is after we have exited Mali on Pete the trike, and seen the very best of the people that Mali has to offer.
Ensha'allah, I will never return to Timbuktu, or Mopti, or go to Dogon Country.
All the best to you all.
Jeff
"How bout no longer being masochistic
How bout remembering your divinity
How bout unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How bout not equating death with stopping
Thank you india
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence"
- Alanis Morrisette, "Thank you"
I know it's about India, but it seems particularly apt for Africa and has been going around in my head since I got here...