Burkina Mali Trip, Part Deux

So we woke up early and started walking in the direction we were told the station was.  We walked for a long time and finally got there after doubting our directions a bit. We sit around and wait for the tro to fill and then make the hour drive to Bandiagara where our guide, Omar, was supposed to meet us.  I got his number from a PCV; about 90% of his treks are with PCV’s…he speaks English.  So he meets us and we go to a restaurant to sit and talk about our trek.  Omar is freaking awesome!  He is super funny and I personally think incredibly hot…he’s married L.  Anyway, as it turns out, the price he quoted me on the phone was for both of us, whereas I thought it was each…WIN!  The driver comes and we start the hour or so drive into Dogon Country.  Nivole and I were in such good moods, just goofin’ and cracking up in the back seat.  We realized that at this point we had a 24/7 babysitter for the next 4 days!  No more “Instant French” needed!  The drive is really gorgeous; the rock formations, colorfully dressed ladies walking to the market, baskets on their heads, and babies on their backs.  We arrive in Dourou and we go to the roof of a campement/house and wait for lunch to be cooked (couscous…yum).  Omar takes us out to look through the village.  Word got around there were tourists and the ladies came out with their indigo dyed cloth.  We didn’t really wanna buy anything because we knew we’d be carrying it on our backs for the next 4 days, but we both ended up buying a cloth for a good price (and we were really happy we did because we didn’t really see any more indigo in Dogon except in a touristy village and it was expensive there).  As we’re walking around on the rocks, Nivole asks about where people go to the bathroom and Omar says the people go to a certain part of the rocks and go, there’s only one or two latrines in the village, “That’s why it’s so stinky!”  And with his funny accent it was hilarious…and we repeated that for the rest of the trip when we walked by stinky stuff (which was a lot).  So after we ate, he said they’d laid mats down in the shade and for us to go rest and we’d start hiking around 4 when the sun cools down.  So we go flop down in the shade, but the flies were really bad and we couldn’t really rest for swattin’ (ewww, poop flies for sure).  After a bit, a kid brings over tea.  Tea is a thing in Mali.  They make this REALLY strong tea with lots of sugar in it, serve it in a shot glass and you drink it like a shot.  They pour the tea from a little teapot and hold it way above the shot glass so the tea cools a little as it falls in the glass so you can shoot it.  It’s some kind of Chinese tea and you boil it and drink from the tea leaves three times….so the first one is super strong.  We always drank it after lunch and after dinner.  I’d be flopped on my mat and a guy would randomly appear with a tiny little tray and my shot of tea…it was funny.  Oh, and one place put mint in it and it was delicious!!  So, Nivole and I were just laying there doing nothing and I brought up the fact that she said she was gonna braid my hair before we went (and I had indeed reminded her about it for the last 3 days and she never got around to it).  It was really hot and it would be much cooler and also I wouldn’t have to wash my hair…trust me, that is very appealing when bucket bathing.  So, Nivole started braiding my hair.  The villagers that came by thought it was incredibly interesting and hilarious; I was just happy to be able to feel a breeze on my head!

  So around 4 we strap on our bags and start our 5km hike for the day.  It was really peaceful and beautiful.  There was no one around…except Omar of course J  We arrive at our overnight village around sunset.  The family we were staying with was nice (or seemed to be as we didn’t speak the same language) and they showed us the flat roofs we’d be sleeping on that night.  They had put mats and strung up mosquito nets and we were both really excited about sleeping out under the stars (no electricity anywhere around makes for excellent stars…but we had a full moon that night, instead of stars).  We took turns bathing (under the moon, of course) and settled down around the outside table to eat dinner.  As we sat we started asking Omar about the Dogon culture.  There are still arranged marriages and the mothers usually arrange them when you are a small child, but you don’t know who they’ve arranged it with until later.  There are still menstrual huts where women must sleep and cook when they are menstruating and they cannot touch men during that time.  They still do full clitoral circumcision for the girls when they are around the age of 2.  When boys are around 13, the men round up the of-age boys and they are circumcised in a long ritual.  Waiting until they are that old is a way to show they are strong men to endure the pain.  Also, “when we are at the ritual, the men of the village teach us how to make sex. Because you cannot have sex before your circumcision.”  “Uh, how do the men show you how to make sex?”  “With a stick and a calabash with a hole in it.”  “Oh.  Do the girls get any instruction from the women on how to make sex?”  (Without the clit not very enthusiastically, I’d say.) “No, the women teach them things at their ritual, but they learn sex from their husbands.” Of course they do.  So we talk about polygamy, sex before marriage, contraception, etc.  It was a very informative evening and it was really great that he was so open to sit and talk (and laugh and argue) with us about his culture.  So we get ready to go to bed and Omar has some guys carry our packs over to the roofs and then we see why; you have to climb up the ladder made out of a log with chunks taken out as the steps…it was awkward.  So we make it up to the roofs and it was so nice.  After some friendly banter, lots of giggles, and a few snorts, we fall asleep under the full moon.

Next morning I decide I have to pee and was dreading climbing down that damn ladder.  As I try to dismount the roof with some sort of finesse, Nivole proceeds to crack up at my awkwardness, which makes me start laughing uncontrollably and I just had to kinda hang off the side of the roof while I composed myself, tried not to wet my pants, and find the ladder…I got the hang of it by later that morning…there’s a system to it.

So we go and take breakfast at the house and then walk through the village.  We keep walking past the village and from far back you can see the awesome view off the escarpment.  IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!  The rock cliffs, the sand dunes, the mud village below us…it was phenomenal.  I love when I get to places in nature and it’s just this overwhelming feeling of “Holy crap this world is so amazing and I’m so lucky to get to be a part of it.”  This was the beginning of my favorite day of the trip.  So after we hung out and took a bunch of pics (and walked through the pooping areas J) we went back to pick our packs and start the morning’s 5km hike.

We hike through the beautiful rocks, can look down over the dunes, come to an agricultural area, and then on to the village we’ll take lunch at.  We walk around the village, eat, and then are shown to our mats that have been laid out in the shade of this big rock formation.  We climbed around and took pictures for a while and then settled down, read books, and napped a little. I kinda woke up and was staring at this bright blue sky with a few whispy clouds, set against the orange of the rocks.  There was a slight breeze, a few birds were flying high overhead and I was just overcome with emotion.  I had this great conversation with myself about life, and the earth, and God, and life’s incomprehensible, but definite plan, and I was just filled with gratitude and awe. I’m pretty sure I’ll remember how I felt at that moment for a long time to come.  It was nice.

Around 3:30 we loaded on our packs and began to climb up further on the escarpment. Once we got on top we were coming into a small village; there was woman walking down the red dirt path, carrying something on her head, walking a goat (by a rope), and her little son walking behind her.  It was a really neat image.  Then the little boy saw me and came running back and grabbed my hand and decided to be my walking buddy.  He didn’t try to talk or laugh, just walked and ate his fruit while holding my hand.  Kids make me laugh.  The mud village was really beautiful in late afternoon sun.  We pass through the village and after a few kilometers we come to the descent.  There’s a large ravine we have to make our way down in order to reach the village at the base of the escarpment.  So we start climbing down; then there are parts where you have to cross the ravine and they have the tree trunk ladders that you have to crab crawl across.  Next, is “rock stairs” to climb down.  After some sweating, complaining, and few loose rocks, we make it down right at dusk and the moon has already risen over the dunes in the distance.  We all eat a bunch and then fall asleep pretty early that night. 

Around 2 a.m. the rain starts coming down and we have to abandon our rooftop slumber.  We relocate to some lean-to thing to finish out the night.  The next morning a “massage” guy comes by.  He had came by the night before and showed us his paper with a message written in several different languages.  He had learned the art of massage from his medicine man-father.  Basically he rubs you down with eucalyptus-like stuff and shea butter.  Ok, it was cheap so why not.  I found it funny to be sitting on a mud roof, in a Muslim community in my bra and pants with some old, nub-toothed man rubbing on me…it felt good, but left my skin feeling greasy and I was worried I’d sizzle like bacon in the sun. After the messages, we set off on another 5km hike to Ende which is Omar’s hometown.  We get there and hang out a bit and then hike up to the Telem cliff houses.  The Telem people lived in Dogon a long time ago; they lived in the cliffs to protect themselves from wild animals and invasion.  It was really quite amazing how they had grain storage built into the cliffs. 

We talked to Omar and told him we wanted to take a donkey ride the next day if it was possible.  Starting in the Upper East of Ghana we saw a bunch of donkey carts and Nivole thought they were so great; I had bought a turban cloth and wanted to wear my turban…donkey ride to the dunes took care of both.  Omar had taught me some card game and I completely kicked his butt the night before, so he owed me. He borrowed his brother’s donkey and off we went.  It was silly, but lots of fun.  After our donkey ride and doing some laundry we packed up and hiked the next 5km to our final village of Teli.  Here we climbed up and looked at some more Telem cliff dwellings and just relaxed.  We were going to get ready for bed, but we heard a bunch of drumming.  “It’s wrestling.”  Wrestling is a big deal in Dogon…maybe Mali?  I dunno, but definitely Dogon; Omar had mentioned it a couple times over the trip.  So we go walking up to the base of the cliff and there in the sand, the villagers (mostly men) have formed a circle and young boys (7-10 years old maybe) are wrestling in the moonlight to the sound of the drums.  It was a really neat scene.  I was happy when Nivole leaned over and said, “Maybe I’ll let you plan all my trips, Jeanna.  This has been pretty great; even though you been trying to kill me with all this hiking stuff.”  J  So one last night on the roof and early the next morning the driver came to pick us and take us back to Bandiagara.  We had to say goodbye to Omar in Teli as he would walk back to his village.  I was really sad to say goodbye to him; he was a really cool person.  I gave him a hug goodbye because I’d really miss talking with him about stuff…Nivole swears I was just trying to cop a feel.

We went to Bandiagara, picked our bush taxi to Sevare and then found the bus station and got on our bus to Segou.  Halfway through the ride we stop off at rest stop; I get off to get us kabobs and bread and Nivole wants to go to the bathroom.  The latrine line is really long so she says she’s gonna walk down (maybe 2 blocks) to the other place we had stopped on the way to Sevare.  “Don’t let them leave me.”  Ok.  So they start honking for us to get back on the bus, and still no Nivole.  I was hoping by the time everyone loaded she’d be back, but no.  So as the bus starts to move I start yelling, “Driver, driver, stop!!”  Yes, I am at the back of the bus, and yes, I’m yelling in English, but anyone can see I’m distressed.  A few people turn around and look at me, smile, but do nothing.  I stand up on my seat and start waving my arms, “Driver, stop! My sister isn’t here!”  They keep going and now we are on the main street. DAMMIT!  So we are going to pass the place Nivole went to pee, so I decided if we didn’t see her I’d just jump up and grab our bags and get off.  I couldn’t leave her on the side of the road and since no one apparently noticed me freaking out (I’m loud, flailing, and a completely different color than everyone else…how can they not notice me?)…  And then we stop and everyone gets off the bus for a 30 minute rest stop at the place Nivole is.  They knew this; the stupid white girl didn’t…and so it goes.