Travel Stories - Mali

The old part of the village is a lot nicer than the place where we just came out with the jeep - small narrow alleys with stones and rocks and lots of mudbruck storagebuildings for grain. Again a well (water source) where a number of children are waiting in line to fill up their jerry cans with water. On a sort of small hill a hut has been built that is far to smal to stand in, well at least for me. The large thick flat thatched roof is supported by eight stone pillars. Abdullai explains that these are meeting places for the elderly to meet under to discuss important matters. We walk further along a large clearing with lots of pebbles and a number of stalls made of reeds and wood - the market is normally here he explains The many wooden dolls and masks you see in those authentic African souvenir shops come from here! I meet the grandmother and other family members of my guide - one of the women is already working on a number of large pots and pans in an open courtyard; what strikes me are the two packets of macaroni that I recognize from the Albert Heijn, supermarkt.  

From the roof here you have a beautiful view of the stone houses and thatched roofs that are so characteristic of the "Dogon" villages would turn out later. In the distance I also see a mudbrick (and stick) mosque, although it is white and much smaller than the one I have seen before. My guide explains that most residents are not Christians or Muslims but atheists, which is rather strange with all those mosques here. Did I understand him ok? We say goodbye to the family and I give the old boss - his great-grandfather - a kola nut as a sign of respect. The man is 92 and still looks very good considering his age. A moment later I also secretly put a kola nut in my mouth - they must be good because everyone likes them here. He is dry, big and I do not like it at all and luckily I have taken a small bite - I put it back in the bag - far too expensive to throw away.

Through a river bed we walk straight through the village and meet a whole group of people who, it seems, are gathering. With those bare trees, the rocks, the houses, the dust that comes from the gravel and stone, and all the reeds with that light brown color that is everywhere, it seems like a kind of mystical and mysterious radiation that lies over this village. We take a look at a local woman in the middle of the village with her fryingpan on the fire - she makes those fried balls that look like small oil balls. When we leave the village, a number of women are cleaning onions and then put them in the sun to dry - and of course always those many children who ask for gifts and are after my water bottles that I won’t give away, because I refill them everytime.  

What’s following is an empty bare plain with here and there a tree, some filled with dried reed which, when everyting else has been eaten from the ground by the animals, is given to them in bad times. Once there has grown "millet" but it is now a dried up field with those little tough earth dikes. Here and there are large boulders that could have served just as well as their beds. And there is a hot breeze. There follows a large stone plateau and then lots of rocks - it is completely green and the wind drops between the rocks. It turns out to be the beginning of a valley between two hills where it is very green and a stone rock staircase is built - sometimes with a wooden ladder Dogon style - which leads down the valley. Then when you are climbing down, you can have your first glimps of “the Fallaise” - the Dogon valley! You now see the cliff on one side (where I come from) that is steep and looks like an elongated table mountain, then the valley that is yellow from the sand - the intrusive desert and behind it a sand hill with some trees. My guide points to the green fields that emerge from the yellowish desert; mainly onions are grown here; and against the rock in the distance the village "Nombori" should lie. In the boiling heat - it has become really hot - we have to clamber down via rocks and you have to be really careful. The first Dogon words that I learn are: "Digge, Digge" which means something like "calm down", “take it easy” – good to know in this heat.

First we walk through the loose sand to the green fields surrounded by woven reeds to keep the animals out. I see men lugging with calabashes full of water and throwing the water over the green fields over and over again. The water comes from a dug hole in the ground of about 3 meters deep - the groundwater is then scooped in the gourds and here the crops - tomatoes, onions, lettuce, tobacco and millet are watered. Now I see the village "Nombori" looming in the distance. It is built against the hill and I now distinguish we are coming closer to the wicker granaries, the stone houses and the many stairs that lead to the "roof" of the village. We walk into a courtyard where I read the text "campement Siguel" on the wall and there are beautiful red flowers growing in the garden. This also seems to be friends or family of my guide and there are some wicker chairs in the shade and asked if I want to order drinks. There is drinking water (there are not enough tourists in these barren times) but also tonic and cola even though these are not cold. How glad I am that I bought a sachet or six water in "Bandiagara" this morning - and not only because of the big difference in price. I almost immediately fall asleep in one of the chairs - also because of the heat - but first decide to go to the toilet. A white pot is lined up between the mudbrick room, just outside. Because the food is not finished yet, I am assigned a small space where a thin mattress is lying and I am going to rest for a while. The boy comes in with a very small glass of tea - a lot of sugar like Arabic. But the amount of flies is staggering and the heat really starts to bug me. Somebody is screaming that the spaghetti is ready!

At 3:30 am Abdullai comes to pick me up and we walk up some rocks to the village where he points to the houses or caves in the cliff – he explains that the "Temel" people lived, the traditional inhabitants of Dogon country. Legends goes that these people came here by black magic - they flew there. Later this tribe mixed with the Dogon people and now no one lives there anymore. Mudbrick is used for making huts for storage purposes at the bottom of the cliff. Through the tobacco and onion fields we walk out of the village and meet a woman carrying a large aluminum pot. We stop in front of the woman while Abdullai is talking to her. She gets the pot from her head and put it on the floor. We buy a glass of in what is millet. First I take a zip while my guide is waiting and finished up the glass. It’s granular, natural, fresh and quite nice. Most of all it’s very cheap.  

Rocks, sand, a palm tree and that ever-present cliff on our left brings us to the next village: "Idyelia Na". We meet some people pulling a cart, some goats and donkeys and also see those beautifully carved wooden panels that are used as a window or door. Soon the market starts here and a number of men are chopping pieces of meat under a tree and baking them in the open fire - according to a few hours ago it was a whole cow, piglet or goat. There are also some plastic bags with yellow and white liquid in them - I dare not really ask what it is. A puddle of water under some trees - it is cool here and we rest for a few minutes. Then we walk on into the village called "Komokani". Here too we meet people who know my guide and we take a look at a courtyard filled with families with lots of children. There are twins and my guide tells us that this is very special here - a gift from God - they also walk in exactly the same clothes and their hair is exactly cut in the same way (as so often here - very short) - I have to pay here 25 CFA as a kind of contribution. I shake hands, ask them how they are doing, hand out some cola nuts and take some photos.

It already’s starts to get dawn when we have traveled the last 3 kilometers after "Komokani" and see a lot of hay on higher platforms – this must be the village of "Tireli"; the village where we will spend the coming night! But what stands out here especially the last part of the trip, is the gigantic silence. No noise from traffic or people - just the occasional goat or donkey you hear. Ofcourse start the villages to look a bit like each other of course. It is a fairly large village and I feel I’ve done enough to do. I’m beat and can’t wait until we arrive in our campement ("Femme Dogon"). There are two jeeps at our campement and I later meet the group of Japanese tourists in the courtyard who set up tents on the roofs. The only loose mattress on the roof is for me. There is even a shower and there is a generator that generates electricity, so we even have light. For me that’s luxury and not really necessary although it’s very nice to have a shower after a long and sweaty day. A table and two chairs are placed in the beautiful courtyard decorated with wooden Dogon souvenirs, Dogon rugs and painted mask dances on the mud walls. As promised my guide may order a drink at my expense; while he enjoys a cold "Castel beer" I just order a cold coke to drink away the dust in my stomage.  

The rice with sauce tastes delicious and not much later, when it is completely dark, I look for my mattress on the roof. Despite the fact that I am tired of all the impressions, the heat and the short sleep of last night, the generator that is not far away keeps me awake. When the Japanese group finally enters the tents, the natural generator of their driver starts to make noise and he’s not far for my spot. By midnight a jeep drives up and fills up the water containers in the courtyard. . After this is finally completed in the middle of the night and the generator from the driver stops, the wind starts to blow. It’s already getting morning when I finally drop off.