The Grand Excursion

I am exhausted, freckled, and my butt is sore from spending days in what is most certainly the world’s most uncomfortable van, but I am also very pleased with my travels around Mali and am so sad they are over. There is a lot to write about and many stories to tell, so I’ll break it up by recounting all of the highlights from the various places we visited.

We started out in Sikasso, a small city 370 kilometers southeast of Bamako and capital of the Sikasso region. The region could really be called Mali’s “bread basket;” it is noticeably verdant (especially compared to the rest of the country) and is the country’s primary region for agriculture. The town itself really isn’t a tourist destination like some of the other stops on our trip, but that made it nice to walk around without being harassed by vendors and guides. We also did get to visit a few cool things… most exciting was Missirikoro, a village outside of Sikasso with a beautiful grotto that we got to hike around. The cave itself is used as a Muslim mosque, but also animists come and perform sacrifices in this sacred place. (When we went, we came across a group of village chiefs from surrounding areas that had come to sacrifice chickens for good fortune for their villages.) We also got to climb to the top of a cliff for a stunning view of the region. Unfortunately, everything else we did in Sikasso was pretty underwhelming. For example, we visited the “great wall” of Sikasso – the “tata” – which is actually a crumbling down mud wall no taller than 6 feet built for protection in the late 1800s. (You can imagine our reactions after being told we were going to visit the “great wall of Sikasso.”)

Our next stop was Teriya Bugu, Mali’s first ecotourism project. The hotel is perched on the River Bani and is surrounded by eucalyptus trees and so many incredible birds (the best were certainly the wild peacocks). Teriya Bugu was created by a French missionary who came to Mali in the 1960s; all of the hotel’s earnings go into the development of the surrounding villages, providing schools, healthcare, jobs, electricity, and running water. It was definitely a treat visiting this little slice of paradise, with wild birds so loud you can’t hear each other speaking and with a restaurant serving fresh baked bread. Coincidentally another study abroad program run by Antioch College was in Teriya Bugu the same nights as we were, so we got to spend some time with the students and compare about our experiences.

Our next stop was Djenné… wow. What a town. It is striking how different it is from Bamako. For one, the landscape is much drier and dustier, especially compared to Sikasso. Djenné is north, between Bamako and Mopti. It is on the River Bani; we had to take a ferry across to get there. Right now, since it’s the end of the rainy season, it is essentially half under water since the town was built on the floodplain, so it is filled with seasonal lakes and ponds. The most striking thing about the town is that all buildings are constructed with the same medium: mud. Of course the most exciting thing to see is the colossal mud mosque, the largest mud structure in the world. Although a mosque has stood in its place since the 13^th century, the current structure was built in 1907. (The picture on my blog is of the mosque). Every year before the start of the rainy season, members of the town volunteer to resurface it with another layer of mud. Sadly, we weren’t allowed to go in since tourists were banned a few years back. It was still awesome to see, especially since we arrived during Friday noontime prayer, so afterwards we got to see hundreds and hundreds of men pour out of the mosque. After dinner, Jessie and I heard loud drumming coming from next to our hotel, so we walked over to see what was going on a stumbled upon a rehearsal for a men’s dance troop preparing for a national competition. The guys were very nice and kept asking us if we wanted to go up and dance to… we had to turn them down, however. I’ve had enough humiliating public dancing in this country to last a lifetime.

After Djenné, we went to the Dogon Country. Getting there was a pain because the last 60 kilometers were on a very, very bad road; we were essentially bouncing over rocks for two hours. However, it was totally worth it. We arrived at Sangha and my first thought was, “People actually live here?” That is, there is no arable land in sight, and the ground is made of stone since we were perched on a cliff so digging wells seems like it would be pretty difficult. The next morning we woke up bright and early (we didn’t even need an alarm since there was a rooster crowing at 4 in the morning outside of our window) and left for the hike before seven. It was already uncomfortably hot, and the sun had only just risen. The hike began walking across the rocky terrain I had previously mentioned. There was a bit of vegetation, but overall it really felt like walking on another planet. Then, all of a sudden, we started climbing down and were able to see that we were in fact perched on top of the cliffs. The views of the green valley were stunning. Hiking down the cliff, we reached the village of Ireli. Dogon villages may be the most interesting places I have ever visited. For one, they are visually stunning, built up against cliffs and consisting of mud huts, their most distinctive being the granaries, small round buildings with straw roofs that look like witch hats. Above the villages are ancient pygmy dwellings, built into the cliffs hundreds of feet above the ground. Dogon history is a bit muddled, so it is unclear why the Dogon originally moved into the cliffs. Today, the Dogon remain widely untouched by Islam, which is very different from the rest of the country. Instead, they are animist. For this reason, walking around Dogon country without a guide is a bad idea, since really anything could be sacred, and if you take a photo of it or walk into a sacred space you will be forced to pay a high fine. Trekking in Dogon country was so incredible and I absolutely want to go back and do more of it. Since we were only there for one full day, we only visited two villages, but it’s possible to spend days and days going from village to village. However, I will say I’m grateful we only hiked for one morning, since it must have been over 100 degrees by the time we made it back to the hotel at around noon. We were not a pretty sight to see after five hours of pretty tough hiking in the intense sun.

Finally, we visited Mopti, a small city located where the Niger and Bani rivers converge. Mopti has stayed small because it was in fact originally built on several islands, which have now been connected by dykes and landfill. Its main industry is fishing, and the quintessential image of Mopti is of long, thin pirogues out in the river. We got to take a pirogue out, which was lovely and peaceful. It is easy to see that Mopti is essentially constructed on artificial land at this time of year, since it’s the end of the rainy season and some peoples’ homes are completely flooded. We basically spent our day wandering about the town, visiting the market and the area where pirogues are built. For lunch, we actually had deliciously fresh fish served with a curry sauce… yum yum yum.

For the last night of the trip, we went back to Sikasso to hang out, swim in the pool, and use the wifi.

Overall, the trip was great, although I will say I wish the ratio of time in the car to out of the car would have been different, since we really did spend half of our time in transit. It was great to get out and see the rest of the country, to spend nights having slumber parties in the hotels, to drink boxed wine, and to hang out with Alou, the driver, and Suleman, the apprenti drinking tea and causer-ing. Two of the nights Jessie and I went out with Suleman, and we had a fun time meeting an array of Malians, other tourists (namely two Norwegian men who could not speak a word of French and were quite out of place), and tons of guides trying to convince us to hire them…and then not leaving us alone when we said no (this actually almost led to a fist fight between over-protective Suleman and one guide).

This afternoon I got back to my family and Bamako –  I wasn’t thrilled to be back since our independent studies start so soon and I’m anxious about it and would rather just keep traveling – but coming back to my little brother joyfully screaming “Raki!!” and attacking me in a hug was a warm welcome home.

I’m getting a little panic-y over the fact that I only have six weeks left in this country. Although it’s not easy, I absolutely love being here and experiencing such different things every day. I am looking forward to lots of things about going back home, but in the end I’m going to be devastated to leave, and six weeks sounds like nothing!