Mali Mali 6 – Welcome 2009!

3 January 2009
11.02a.m.
Banani – Dogon Country

The atmosphere – and countryside – changed considerably the next day – New Years’ Eve.  We set off north from Sevare to Bandiagara and Dogon Country, home to a remote ethnic group, the Dogon.

We made a stop at a Dogon village called Songho – the local centre for the performance of circumcision rites.  We were guided around the village by GP, but shadowed ominously by a pride of prowling children whose manner seemed to become more and more aggressive as the trip goes on.  They seemed less inclined to stop and try to have a chat and are becoming far more persistent in their demands.

The top of Songho, nestled under a mesa-like outcrop, featured some old paintings that had been found when the Dogon moved into the area.  Although touched-up by the Dogon men every few years, the paintings offer an interesting glimpse into life in this amazing area.

For one, the area had very few trees.  Shade is easy enough to find, but you have to make a point of finding it.  The scree and pebble tracks give way to sandy trails – often it’s like walking on the beach – and the sun does seem just that little bit hotter.

We arrived at Songho to rapturous acclaim from the hordes and enjoyed the magnificent views over the village.  Just before departing, a team of aid workers arrived in traditional dress, armed with megaphones and uniformed t-shirts to promote health awareness in the area.  An interesting combination of role-playing , dancing and infomercial aimed both at informing the adults and entertaining the kids.

Bandiagara wasn’t far off – not that it was somewhere to get to in a hurry.  GP spent a lot of time here when he was growing up, and assured us that the Rastafarian who ran the Auberge was his best friend (sounds familiar…).  Dry, dusty and hot, the streets were either empty or static when we arrived, and it was obvious whey this wasn’t much more than a gateway to the Dogon country.

The showers were spacious yet temperamental – and certainly the standards associated with them far below what we found in Morocco.  Lugging our tents and equipment up three flights of stairs wasn’t the best fun either, but otherwise it proved a good place to relax and see in the New Year.

Strains of Bob Marley and The Police ringing out through the old and heavily distorting speakers, we enjoyed an afternoon relaxing and trying to cool down.  It was one week ago that we had started the trip, and so much had flown by us – it felt like months had gone by.

Mali is growing on me every day – not that I was ever unimpressed by it.  Certainly, my opinions are still developing but considering it is such a poor country, most of the people here go about their days with a smile and enthusiastic determination.  True, once out of Bamako, it seems most people are content to just get by – not that many other options present themselves – and often it seems the men are too lazy or recalcitrant to even do that!

The evening in Bandiagara wore on and Robert and team threw together a wonderful meal – including some chicken resourcefully sourced by Kate to complement the rest of the food. GP had arranged a live band for us – who knows what time they would arrive – and even though we were in such a remote place, the drinks were flowing freely.  We even had a crack at making some punch (interesting…).

Just when we had all but given up hope of seeing them again, Cathy and Rosie appeared, glowingly glamorous as usual, and to the great delight of Ruth, Fay and myself.  We quizzed them on their latest exploits and they enthused about their fortunes ahead as Togo loomed nearer, and the even presented us with a NYE gift pack, complete with special Dragoman quiz (answers supplied), card game book and travel Scrabble™ – very generous indeed!  We danced, drank some more, took them on a tour of Madge (Tony even let us up top…) and brought in 2009 with new friends.  Good times.

The band finally arrived, and not long after we set off for another party (TWO parties in Bandiagara??!?!?) with the girls – we being Ruth and I – where the three of them were showered with brochettes and chips in some mildly successful attempts by the local lads to entreat them to dance.  Ruth and I didn’t stay long and we wandered back to our auberge, accompanied by Moses, a Cameroonian restaurant owner who regaled us with tales of his misfortune and Malian women, before we fell into our tents at 4.30a.m.