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| Segou Sunset as seen from our pinasse |
We arrive as they are hosing off the patio, washing off the grime and dust of one day to prepare for the traffic of another. They aren’t popular at this hour, but at 6:30 they are already open. We sit zombie like in front of the TVs and make simple conversation with two Canadian girls who will share our ride. It’s too early for Zak to talk and my brain seems sluggish and reluctant to react to conversation. This changes a bit when our car arrives. Our friend, Cecilia, smiles and waves from the driver’s seat of a massive SUV with diplomatic plates and African printed seat covers. She will be our driver for the weekend, a brave and economically sound choice for this trip. Though they got as little sleep as I did, Cecilia, Erin, and Martha are excited for the trip and already energetic about the day. I remember that despite my morning grogginess, I am excited for this trip, too!
After a few hours in the car, expertly negotiating potholes and avoiding big speeding trucks, singing along to the iPod, and waving at villagers we pass along the route, we arrive at our lodgings- a cute little hotel and artist co-op at the edge of Segou near the river. By this time we’re all awake and our group of five celebrates the start of our vacation with late morning beers, delicious tomato snacks, and some juicy juicy mangoes. As the wind whips my hair and I laugh with friends on a lovely shaded patio I am so excited to be out of Bamako and starting this little adventure.
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| Lovely travel companions Cecilia, Erin, and Martha |
Bellies happy and legs stretched after the ride, fatigue begins to set in and even the enthusiasm we all share can’t buoy our energy levels quite enough. A nap in the A/C is just what the doctor ordered! After a couple hours sleep, I rouse myself and quietly shower and dress. I choose a long skirt and wrap a scarf around my hair to keep it from turning to tangles in the wind. I make a couple phone calls and set out to visit Mama Fatim, the woman who hosted me during my last visit to Segou in February. Because we’re out of the center of town, I walk a ways before I find transportation. It is hot hot hot this afternoon and I’m glad I’ve brought a nalgene full of cool water to stay hydrated along the roadside. I pass venders and greet them in Bambara, usually getting a pleasant and encouraging reaction, but occasionally encountering some taunts and some “Toubab” chanting children. Eventually, I find a moto taxi that will take me part way to my destination- all the way into town for just 100cfa (about 25 cents). I attempt to make the entire transaction and trip in Bambara and it works until I realize I’ve gone too far and I have to explain to the driver that I need to stop immediately, please! Luckily, I’m not too far off my route and I quickly find a taxi to take me the rest of the way. A quick pause along the road to buy some mangoes and I arrive at Fatim’s, full sack of ripe orange mangoes in hand and only slightly sweaty for the effort.
The visit with Fatim is a joy. She is genuinely happy to see me and to inquire after my friends that she met during the last trip. She demands why I would stay in a hotel when I know I can always stay at her place, and I explain that I am here just for one night with friends who will be leaving Mali soon- for good. “Toi- tu ne vas pas quitter le Mali, n’est pas?” she asks. You won’t leave Mali, right ? « Il faut chercher un mari ici, » you should find a husband here ! “I love Mali,” I explain, “but my family misses me and hopes I will come home. My grandmother recently sent me a note saying she loved me and thinks it’s time that I come home!” This she understands. “This is your mother’s mother?” she asks knowingly. “It is like that with mothers and grandparents. You should go home. But you can find a husband here and come and go. Some time here, some time there. This is best.” Madame Keita, a neighbor visiting for the afternoon, agrees with an appreciative cluck from over on her couch. Now that this is decided for me, we move on to conversation about the politics of Africa. Gbagbo on TV in his underwear, Gaddahfi and the rebel armies, and the dissolution of the government in neighboring Burkina Faso- “l’Afrique est gaté maintenant,” Fatim decides. I offer my two cents, but there’s really not much else to say. Africa really is “broken” right now in a lot of places. So we move back to talking about friends and her son Cheik, who is in Bamako. We see each other every so often and she inquires again about his health. Then, nothing important left to say, a silence descends upon us, broken by only by the whirring of the fan, the soft snoring of Madame Keita who is now napping on her couch, and the sound of children playing outside in the courtyard. I have grown more used to these silences, but they still remain more awkward for me than for most Malians, it seems. When I announce a few minutes later that I should go, Fatim protests, “Already?” even though we’ve been sitting in silence for what seems like a while. She ushers me to the road with a gaggle of children in tow and puts me on the back of a moto belonging to a man who eagerly volunteers to take me to town in lieu of looking for a taxi.
Reunited with my friends in the city center, I peruse the offerings of artisan shops set up for the viewing pleasure of tourists. This is the third time I’ve visited Segou in the past six months, and I’ve spent a bit of time near these stalls, so I have some old “friends” to greet as we walk up and down the street popping in and out of makeshift boutiques and dodging Tuareg salesmen all hocking the same leather covered boxes. I do my best to greet salespeople in Bambara and try to pretend that I really know how to speak the language. Even when a couple of vendors approach me in English, I respond in Bambara- it’s usually a better bargaining tool, it gives me practice, and it’s often met with enthusiasm along the way. I make friends with a fellow Maiga (that’s my family name here in Mali) and buy a mirror that I didn’t even know I wanted. When I become tired of the searching and the hounding, I sit under an awning and drink a coke with Cecilia while Erin and Martha play with the son of a fabric saleswoman.
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| Drinking sweet and delicious bissap tea |
The highlight of the day is just ahead. We have arranged to take a pinasse along the Niger River for an hour and a half just as the sun is setting. As we wait for Zak to join us, I negotiate with the boat guide and make a request for tea or delicious bissap (hibiscus juice) to be served during our tour. I really like this guy, Ibrahim, and his crew member who is also a Maiga like me! We share some friendly banter and I am assured that we have lucked out with this choice of guide! As we set off on our journey along the river and across to peak at the neighboring Bozo village, the sun begins to set. The setting is beautiful and the company couldn’t be better! I sip delicious bissap tea (I guess maybe my Bambara wasn’t that great… instead of tea or bissap juice we got bissap tea- it’s awesome!) and look out over the river with my camera. At this moment I am happy and I feel full. A momentary silence comes over the group as the moon rises and the sun slips below the horizon. Even a temporary loss of engine function goes practically unnoticed as we enjoy this relaxing ride. As we pull into port, we thank the two guides who made our trip possible and I am genuinely happy to share some money with them and take their card so that maybe we can visit again. In a place where I often feel pestered and have maybe become a little jaded, it’s nice to meet someone in the tourism business like Ibrahim, who is truly helpful, kind and accommodating.
Fresh off the boat, we head straight to Djoliba hotel for brick oven pizza specials. I load mine up with toppings, and the result does not disappoint! Bellies really full and happy, we stop at another hotel for chocolate mousse, a glimpse of a soccer match on TV, and a wind down after the day. I sleep well when I make it back to my bed and even sleep in a little the next morning because, hey- we’re on vacation! And vacation it is on the lazy Sunday that follows. After a lazy breakfast shared in the shade, all the girls pile into the SUV and we visit a Bogolon co-operative supported by the EU and run by local Malian women. I debate over pillowcases and finally buy three after agonizing for far too long over decorating accessories. We leave Zak to rest at the hotel (poor guy has come down with a cold) and continue on the Auberge hotel where we have made a date with their pool. I spend the rest of my afternoon basking in the sunshine, swimming, and eating poolside, sharing girl talk with my friends. I begin to take offense as the waiter acts annoyed at our group, his customers. I would never treat customers with such an air of disinterest and resentment, I protest to myself, but I refuse to let him get me down because my food is good and the pool is brilliant! This is a feat for me, and something I find I accomplish less easily during the day to day grind back in Bamako.
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| Refreshed from a swim and an afternoon in the sun! |
We pile into the car at the end of the afternoon, refusing the last pleas and offers from nearby vendors, and bid Segou goodbye. I spend the next few hours singing songs with friends, swapping stories, and shifting back into Bamako mode as phones begin to ring and evening plans are made. As with all good trips, I am sad to see this one end. It marks the end of a weekend, the end of a “vacation” and the beginning of the end of my friend Erin’s stay in Mali- she will leave at the week's end. I write about this trip now, in detail, because it was such a pleasant little surprise. I always enjoy going to Segou and especially spending time with friends, but this simple weekend trip kind of jolted me out of a routine in a way that needed to happen. I recently have come to feel as though I am sort of going through the motions here in Bamako- I research a few afternoons a week, teach English for a couple of hours, exercise in the evenings and schedule dinner plans with friends a few days in advance. Even in Africa, things have managed to become a little “ho-hum,” and I’d like to avoid that as much as possible! Mostly I think this will just take a slight change in attitude and a renewed sense of energy about each of my daily commitments- an effort that I need to make and a consciousness I feel I need to work harder to maintain every day. But let's face it, a great mini-vacation once and a while surely doesn’t hurt!
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