This travelogue is about a journey through Mali, which I made together with friends from November 17th until December 15th.
DUS - CDG - BMK - Bamako - Ségou - San - Djenné with Senossa - Mopti - Lac Débo - Niafounké - Timbuktu - Gourma-Rharous - Gossi - Hombori - Douenza - Banani - Bankass - Ende - Banani - Sangha - Bandiagara - Mopti - Bamako – BMK – CDG – DUS
Why publish this travelogue after all these years? I digitalized my handwritten travel diary and thought some aspects are also interesting to the public. Moreover this kind of travel nowadays would risk your live [1], so maybe this travelogue is already giving a historic account.
Day 11, Tuesday, November 27th, 2007 Rest and planning in Timbuktu
Rest at the Hotel La Maison. Arranged a trip to the Pays Dogon with Yaya. Evening walk to the cemetery.
The small birds with red and olive green plumage are called amaranth (wrong spelling!) [2] or in English firefinch.
The landlady, Mrs. Auer, used to work for Aventis in Basel. She turned out to be a treasure trove of information. We make all sorts of plans, including traveling back here and flying to Bamako. But you can also fly from Mopti. The pilot Monsieur Sonir Michel talks about life here. Gasoline, for example, is sold in bottles by the liter. A loaf of bread costs 50 francs. You should bargain everywhere. Taxis usually have hardly any petrol in the tank. In the houses in the area, goats, women and children sometimes sleep in the same room. There's a bar in New York called Timbuktu that will serve you for free if you show a Timbuktu stamp on your passport.
Here, Ghaddafi, but also the Aga Khan, are investing in a project to preserve old manuscripts about Africa - this is what the scientists see as they dine at La Maison in the evening.
In September there were circumcision ceremonies for girls and boys in tents on the streets here. Anyone who didn't cry got a gift, otherwise the music played. You can hardly expect to change this from Germany / the West.
Politically, the pilot sees a kind of socialism, but it takes its orders from Libya, America and France; strange mix, if that's true.
The desiccated carcasses of cats hang over the power lines. The prophet loved the cats. Mahmout came and we made plans to continue our journey; significantly cheaper than Mohammed's proposals. Later Mohammed came just to say hello, nothing about camels, 4x4s or travel plans. Probably he has already seen Mahmout.
Afternoon walk behind the cemetery to the north and then into the desert - more steppe – but not to far.
In the evening we make arrangements to continue our journey. The perfume from the friends of the daughter of the house bothers Charles. What bothers me more is the heated discussion. Then there is another man who shows off his virility. Cell phones are also annoying. This gives me the idea of answering with a squawking sound whenever I am disturbed by cell phones. But the highlight is the South Africans singing Happy Birthday into a cell phone.
Day 12, Wednesday, November 28, 2007 Mohammed in prison
Charles says goodbye toMohammed. First roar. Siege on the hotel roof. Lothar sneaks out to the bank. Geneviève writes her postcards. Mohammed comes back drunk and stoned. Roaring scene (“fasco”, “raciste”, “je te poursuivrai jusqu'au fonds de l'Afrique”). Mohammed was forced out by the hotel staff and quickly detained by the police.
The air is very dry.
Siege by Mohammed, who only took the money out of our pockets “out of friendship” and now demands 35,000 francs for the return journey.
I break the siege and occasionally meet Mohammed's brother in the city. I also find and enter a church. You don't want to live as a Christian here.
The bank is difficult to find, but I finally find it on the edge of town. It's not a problem to change, but I pulled the number 826 when 765 was called. In the bank there are only men sitting on benches and sofas under fans. There is a pleasant calm atmosphere, like in a mosque outside of prayer hours. I'm slowly getting dry again, too. It is interesting to watch the transactions. Very strange feeling, when suddenly a toccata and fugue in A minor sounds from a cell phone. At around 2:00 p.m. there was excitement as someone came in from the back door and tried to jump the waiting order. The bankers managed this confidently. At least there were two loud utterances from those waiting. It takes me two and a half hours to change money at the bank. How should normal trade be promoted there? Overall, one has to say that the bank employees worked carefully. It just seems so complicated, so similar to German bureaucracy.
Then I had a quick tea in a restaurant. Two Germans ere talking, but they soon left. Then I returned with an unwanted companion who wanted to take me to some jewelry sale and didn't even know where the cemetery was. Meanwhile, an eerie scene had emerged in the hotel. When Mohammed was taken out of the hotel by force after he had previously rioted in the house despite being banned from the hotel - he insulted Charles as a fascist and racist and he would hunt him all over Africa. In addition, a disabled person who is very well respected helped to get him out of the hotel.
We later found out that Mohammed was not a guide at all and was taken into police custody.
Tourist guide with yellow card: local support; blue card guides can guide throughout Mali. This is how we were informed. In between, a conversation with the leader of a group who comes from Dogonland.
I believed the Mohammed affair to be over.
The women's foot tattoos were probably henna or another plant that the Dogonland guide called Linnaeus.
Slogans like Allahu akbar or La ilaha illa Allah, and Muhammadan rasulu 'llah came from the mosque.
The flickering of the kerosene lamps reminded me of my childhood in my grandparents' garden. And then there were also voltage fluctuations.
We would absolutely need electricity before visiting Dogon Country. Shockingly, Charles' africanization is increasing; he can no longer distinguish the faces of white people.
Day 13, Thursday, November 29, 2007 Tour with the historian Salem
City tour with Monsieur Salem: old town, two mosques, museum, homes of the great researchers, market.
In the morning there was a lot of noise from the group, which certainly had to leave early. They still were in good spirits.
Clouds wre gathering. It was fresh. After the group had left, the landlady, the daughter and the kitchen help sat on the terrace having breakfast.
The dogs lie at the feet of Charles, who is standing at the parapet cutting his nails.
I'm moving to the very nice room No. 8, better than No. 7, especially since three windows face the street.
We were thinking about treating ourselves to a guide that we had previously seen with one of the groups in the afternoon.
Shopping with Geneviève was a bad idea; we were quickly surrounded by people who wanted to help and I could easily shake them off. We agreed to give our driver a shopping list, in particular, various things such as Lipton tea are not stocked in the stores here as these stores cover other needs.
Timbuktu is:
a day of rest,
an exciting day,
another day of rest.
And I met Yusuf again, the tourist Tuareg, who probably says every day that he's going to Aroname by camel tomorrow - and yet he just wants to sell jewelry. “Just look!” is the request, but I’m not interested in jewels.
Shortly after noon, M. Michel, the pilot, came back to the hotel.
We had a nice tour of the old town with Salam Ould Elhadj, a local historian. The manuscripts and the mosque were more interesting than expected. A Libyan group joined in. Then we also found out a lot about René Caillié and Heinrich Barth (Abd El Karim).
I see a wrecked bus from the Biale company, which used to operate on the Gao-Kital route.
All of our shopping has been done.
Links and Annotations:
[1] The U.S. Department of State / Bureau of Consular Affairs for instance writes: "Violent crime, such as kidnapping and armed robbery, is common in Mali." And more risks are mentioned. Moreover it advises: "Draft a will and designate appropriate insurance beneficiaries and/or power of attorney." https://travel.state.gov/content/travel/en/traveladvisories/traveladvisories/mali-travel-advisory.html
[2] I knew amaranth only as a pseudocereal – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amaranth. The reason is simple, in German the bird is spelled amarant and the cereal amaranth (no difference in phonetics!), but in English it's the firefinch – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Firefinch.
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