The Vuvuzela Diaries

It goes like this… we are all sitting around our gas stove, waiting for our spaghetti to cook, when the debate starts. Where would Africa be today if it weren’t for colonialism? Better off or worse off?  If only we could find somewhere untouched by British, French, German or Belgium influence, perhaps we would have the inkling of an answer? But where to find such a place? So far, as we have traced a track along West Africa, we have seen baguettes sold by the dozen and ‘Bonjour’ has been our standard greeting…

So, would Dogon country perhaps throw a shred of light on our debates? Until the end of the colonial era, the Dogon were one of the African peoples who had most successfully retained their culture and traditional way of life, largely due to their isolated location in cliffside villages along a 200km stretch of the Bandiagara escarpment. Our guide books suggested the best way to see Dogon country was slowly, trekking over a few days with a Dogon guide to show us the ropes and prevent any cultural faux-pas’ on our part as well as a way of promoting responsible tourism.

The owners of our campsite, Le Petit Repos, in Sevare, recommended a wonderful and unassuming guide, called Hassimi Guindo. He was born and grew up in Ende, a Dogon village and has been a guide for at least a decade. His gentle manner and quiet dignity left a resonating impression on us all. To Hassimi, guiding is not just a way to earn money, he is truly proud of his work and his diligent efforts smacked of integrity, a rarity in many tourist industries! He was our breath of fresh air. As he put it, we tourists are ‘fragile’ and must be taken care of.

Our Dogon Country trek was broken into 2 nights and 3 days:

Day 1

After an early rise, Hassimi arrived at our campsite and we travelled to Kani-Kombole, in southern Dogon country, where we left our cars, parked under two giant baobabs and overlooked by a Dogon style mosque. We set off at around 11am, in scorching heat, with temperatures of 40 degrees Celsius! Needless to say, after 4kms we were drenched in sweat and very grateful to sink our limp limbs into reclining chairs, under a shaded roof-top in the tiny village of Teli.  After a hearty lunch of chicken, tomato relish, couscous and cold cokes, we were bade to ly down on mattresses on the roof-top. We slept (and sweated) away the midday heat, and were roused at around 3pm to restart our trek. Hassimi lead us up to the cliff-face above Teli where the old village remains. This village was built in the 11th century, initally by the Tellem people (a pygmy race), then later taken over by the Dogon. We were shown the granaries, the Hogon’s house (the Hogon was the spiritual leader of the village), a typical family house and the Hunter’s house (complete with baboon skulls still plastered to the walls). Hassimi also pointed out the old Tellem miniature granaries, higher up on the cliff, which have been converted by the Dogon into burial sites with a view!

We then marched on to Ende, where we spent the evening listening and attempting to participate in local Dogon music, played on a calabash guitar with two strings and accompanied by a drummer on an upturned calabash. Mikaela was probably the most talented drummer, although we all fell short of local standards!  Each song had a story behind it – one about circumcisions, one about harvest time… and of course, one about a beautiful woman (some themes are the same the world over)!

Day 2

The formula was similar to the previous day except that we started the day much earlier, explored Ende village and the violet dyers who use a local plant to stain their cotton cloth a deep blue, visited the rope makers (wisened old men who make ropes from baobab bark) and then trekked on to our lunch stop at Yabatalou. All along our route we were greeted warmly by old and young alike, and it was not uncommon for us to be walking hand in hand with a little kids as we trekked past settlements.

Over our lunch-time siesta period, we entertained ourselves with numerous card-games of ‘Spite and Malice’ and some of us agreed to massages administered by the village ‘medicine man’ or ‘healer’. I must say that as a physiotherapist, I was rather skeptical at first, however after his treatment, (which was of the myofascial and neural type for those interested) my sceptism had vanished as effectively as my aches! Apparently, Dogon medicine is being studied by the Western world, as it has been recognized as having value.

The late afternoon trek saw us leaving the plains and climbing upwards through a gorge onto the top of the ‘falaise’ to the village of Begnimato. As we emerged onto the top-most portion of the gorge, we were dumbstruck by the sight before us; a little valley of Eden! Lettuces and onions were growing bright green and prolifically in neat squares, whilst children and men carried water to their veggie patches, chatting amiably to each other. Overhead, Abyssinian Rollers and Bearded Barbets trilled and twittered as they flew between the bright green mango and fig trees. We climbed slightly higher, past some spectacular rock formations, before arriving at our night-time repose. That night, we slept on the roof-tops, under the plethora of stars, disturbed intermittently by the swirling winds of the Harmattan.

Day 3

Slightly bleary eyed, we awoke to a breakfast of freshly baked baguettes, smothered in guava and mango jam, and washed down with cups of coffee. Hassimi then showed us around Begnimato which is essentially comprised of three ‘quartiers’. An animist quartier, a muslim quartier and a christian quartier. Hassimi explained that although people belong to different religious factions, they live in harmony and marriage between the different factions is welcomed. We could certainly all learn a bit from this as! We also paid a visit to the hunter’s house – slightly macabre with the stuffed animal skins of civets, baboons and wild cats, not to mention the still live monkey chained to the wall!

We then hiked along the top of the plateau, gazing in wonder at the dust clouds on the plains below, stirred up by the Harmattan, till we reached the village of Indelou. This village is occupied by animists only, and has a ‘fetish’ rather than a church or mosque. Hassimi explained that the Hogon of the village had passed away a few years ago, and the village elders would soon be asking the fox – a revered animal – who the next Hogon should be. The fox answers their questions, which are written in the sand, by walking over the correct answer.

We descended back down through another steep gorge, and were met at the bottom by our ‘chariots’ which were two ox-drawn carts. The driver of our cart, an eight year old chap called Amaddou couldn’t have been prouder of his job and he was wonderful in his sincerity, making sure we held on tightly over the bumpy bits – fragile tourists that we are! In this manner, we set off to Ende where we had lunch. After lunch and another chariot ride later, we were back at our cars, feeling like we had left a little bit of our hearts behind.

So, there is certainly no definite answer to our debate, but we all felt touched by a culture and a people who had ‘something special’ about them. They are not wealthy in the western way, but their sense of community and pride in their traditions smacks of wealth to me. We could all learn from the wisdom of the Dogon people – long may they remain unaffected.

We left bustling Bamako early on Sunday morning and headed north-east towards the Niger Inland Delta.  Our aim was to get to get to Djenne , a world heritage site, in time for their infamous Monday Market! Djenne sits on an island in the Bani river and like Timbuktu used to be a an important commercial trading centre from as early as the 13th century!  Gold, slaves and kola nuts came from the south and were exchanged for Saharan salt.  Although this large-scale trading has come to an end, the town still boasts one of the busiest markets in West Africa.  Every Monday, the town’s population roughly triples as people come from surrounding villages and even as far as Bamako to come sell their merchandise.  The most special aspect of the market was not so much in the wares of the stalls but more in the setting as the grand mud mosque provides a backdrop to this lively market! The Djenne mosque is the largest mud structure in the world.  Each year before the rainy season, volunteers from the town help resurface the mosque with a new layer of mud by hand! It was definitely worth the visit (although at some stages, I thought I might pass out from the heat and smell of fish!!)   Also worth doing is taking a walk around the labyrinthine streets away from the market.  There is hardly a modern building in sight and most of the houses are made of mud-brick and are over a storey high! One downside to the visit was the very persistent guides wanting to show you around the town.  Some took no for an answer, while others followed you around and became quite a nuisance.

We left Djenne and headed to Sevare to find a place to camp for a few nights.  We found a great spot a few km’s north of Sevare called Mon P’tit Repos, where we were able to camp! The campement is fairly new and consisted of a few thatched bungalows in a well-kept garden. We unfortunately had to camp on a sandy patch of ground and it got bit dusty as the Harmatan wind decided to rear its ugly head and nothing was going to stop it!!  We spent the next day catching up on e-mails (they had WIFI!), exploring nearby Mopti and most importantly organising a guide for our Dogon hike.  Mopti was quite an experience- as one of West Africa’s largest river ports it was incredibly busy and intense to say the least!!! We luckily could seek refuge (or so we thought!) at Restaurant Bar Bazo which overlooks the Mouth of Mopti harbour!  It was quite incredible to watch a port running as if we were back in the 19th century!  The boats were old pinasses and men were wading in and out of the water loading and offloading blocks of salt and other wares.  Interestingly, Mopti is at the confluence of the rivers Niger and Bani and boats go from here to Timbuktu.  Again, the city swarms with guides and hawkers and as much as you want to be friendly to people greeting you, it seems that every conversation has an ulterior motive!  We were constantly interupted at lunch with people trying to sell us goods!  I was relieved to return to the dust storm back at the camp!!!

Unfortunately the time came to leave African Safari, the lodge just outside of Mako. We had spent two fairly luxurious days lounging by the pool and taking in the wildlife around us. Hippo’s grunted below us in the Gambia River whilst monkeys fought in the trees on the opposite bank. It was the 10th of March and we were heading into Mali. As usual, we were taking the scenic route…

From Mako we drove East and crossed the border into Mali near Saraya. It was a scorching hot day, definitely the hottest yet on our trip. Nevertheless, the border crossing was pleasant enough and immediately we felt very welcomed by the Malian people. From Saraya we drove towards Kenieba. From the various maps we had available to us (MapStudio, Michelin, Lonely Planet, Rough Guide and Bradt guide) we were aware that there was a piste leading over the escarpment and towards Kasama. However this route certainly wasn’t on Garmin’s Tracks for Africa and so we relied on many locals and passers by to point us in the right direction. At one point we had a group of people telling us to go in different directions, an indication as to just how scenic our route was! We headed north on the road to Mahina and eventually we found a road to Batama at the bottom of the pass. From there we began the challenging trundle up the steep rocky escarpment. This was a road solely suited to off road vehicles (and the occasional local on a motorbike)! Near the top of the escarpment we stopped to set up camp for the night. We had an incredible view encompassing the small village of Batama and the planes beyond. In fact, it was the perfect moment for Paula and I to whip out some ice cold G&T’s!!! Paula had snuck off to buy them earlier in the day and we had cunningly hid them in the bottom of the fridge. Like manna from heaven, they went down “like a home-sick mole”!

We set off early on Thursday, 11 March, and continued up the pass. At the top of the plateau we passed through the village of Kassama where we handed out a football (in fact one of the signed footballs from our farewell party!) to some very excited kids. Although the road had levelled out it was still rough going as we travelled from village to village. As we passed through one village we heard the sound of drums and singing and we decided to jump out the cars to investigate. Before we knew it we had been swept up in a colourful wedding celebration! The girls were pulled into the centre to dance while I was handed a large drum to beat! Again the Malian’s warmth and hospitality amazed us!

The road improved as we arrived at the dam wall on the north of Lake Manantali. We continued on through Kita and then turned off the road to find a spot to camp for the night. As we drove through the bush we came across a group of young boys playing soccer with a small, pap football. We decided it needed replacing and so we jumped out our cars, pumped up a new ball and soon we were playing a dusty game of soccer!

We arrived in Bamako on Friday the 12th of March and took our first look at the magnificent Niger river. Our first stop was at a shopping “centre” to stock up on some much needed supplies. We then drove on to Camp Kangaba which is an excellent campsite south of the Niger and about 10km out of town. We had sundowners on their beautiful deck which is set high up above the campsite.

We used Saturday morning to try to establish the strange clunking noises that were coming from the underside of both cars. The camp manager kindly called a mechanic out but even he was perplexed. Eventually we resigned ourselves to the conclusion that it was just worn-out bushes that were causing the problem, but we weren’t convinced. In the afternoon we took a worthwhile trip to Musee National which houses a stunning collection of textiles, masks, statues and archaeological artefacts. We also visited the Fetish Market in town which went some way to explaining the lack of wildlife in any of the parks we had visited thus far. The stalls held a stomach-churning array of medicines and cures including hyena heads, dried chameleons, snakes, chimpanzee hands and feet and dead parrots.

That evening we thought we would try get a taste of Mali’s renowned music scene and so we headed off to Exodus, a bar/restaurant on the sides of the Hippodrome horse racing track. The food was decent and the live music was entertaining albeit a bit short. The Hippodrome itself though provided a lot of entertainment as we watched young boys race horses bareback around the incredibly dusty track.

Mali is the jewel in West Africa’s crown, a destination that has all the right ingredients. The country occupies the heart of a territory that once supported Africa’s greatest empires and is rich with historical resonance. This history bequeathed to Mali some of its most dramatic attractions – the legendary city of Timbuktu (Tombouctou), whose name has never lost its allure for travellers, the gloriously improbable mosque at Djenné and the bustling river port of Mopti are simply three among many.

Mali’s history has always been a story of its deserts and rivers. The lucrative trade routes of the Sahara once made the region among the world’s richest, and the Niger, one of the grand old rivers of Africa, is still the lifeblood of the country; to journey along the Niger River route (preferably on a slow boat to Timbuktu) is one of the continent’s great adventures. Not far from the riverbank, the extraordinary Falaise de Bandiagara rises up from the plains, and shelters one of West Africa’s most intriguing peoples – the Dogon, whose villages and complex cultural rituals still cling to the edge of rocky cliffs. If you can visit one place in Mali, go to the Dogon Country: it’s utterly unforgettable.

But all of Mali is alive with a fascinating cultural mix of peoples, from the nomadic Tuareg people of the Sahara to the Niger fishing societies of the Bozo. As a result, everywhere you go there are fascinating ceremonies, world-famous musical traditions with strong roots in the local soil, and traditional cultures as accessible to travellers as any you’ll find in Africa.

With thanks to Lonely Planet

We’re hoping to drive from London to South Africa in time to catch a few football matches.

En route we are planning to distribute soccer balls on behalf of the 2010 Campaign.

Good times!